


battalion at sunrise

by Marshsano



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Gronder Field, I literally suck at tags oh no, M/M, No Byleth, Slow Burn, What if Claude Saved Dimitri huh, What-If, be gay and commit war crimes, dimiclaude
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshsano/pseuds/Marshsano
Summary: Claude von Riegan may be a strategist, but he's not heartless. When he happens to have the opportunity to save his former classmate, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, he acts on his intuition without a second thought. Despite his rescue, it seemed that the favor had been long forgotten by the prince. That is until the crushing attack on Derdriu when Claude is cornered and seemingly at his limit. In his final moments of desperation, it seems that perhaps the act of kindness wasn't entirely forgotten.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Blue Lions Students, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Golden Deer Students & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 43
Kudos: 265





	1. An Attack On Derdriu

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in a Dimiclaude brain rot recently after buying Fire Emblem a few months ago, so I thought I would contribute to the fandom with the writing skill so many people claim I have. I'll try to update this as often as I can, but I'll try not to leave super long intervals in between each chapter! I plan for this to be decently long as well, so politely buckle your seatbelts cuties.

Claude enjoyed it when things went his way. When he was little, he would take his risks and play with the hands of death as if it were nothing but an old friend; running and jumping into the arms of chance. He was a man of strategy, and his actions were always in his favor. If it didn’t benefit his agenda, there was nothing to be done in that field. He was a calculated leader. That’s what he was known for.

But the day he saved Dimitri, he found himself being the exact opposite. It would have been easy to let the man chase after a ghost and meet his end. It’s not like it would have stopped Claude in his efforts to pursue the dream of a unified Fodlan, but seeing the crazed look in Dimitri’s eye flared an instinctive feeling in him: familiarity. His heart felt connected to the raging blonde diving straight for the spears of an Imperial soldier, and his body yearned for their paths to cross.

And so they did.

The hit from Dimitri wasn’t unfamiliar to Claude. In their time at the academy, they had often found themselves in front of the other’s weapon in playful endeavors. Arrow to lance in jovial competitions with smiles on their face. No, the killer look in his friend’s eyes was quite the opposite from the soft gazes he would receive—flinches that would often allow Claude to gain the upper hand.

There was no flinch. There was no quiet laughter, and there was no way Claude would win.

“Claude!” Hilda screeched from a far distance as he went tumbling to the ground. Dimitri threw him a frown of disgust, but he didn’t falter. He continued forward towards the path Edelgard had fled, but Claude had already stood back up and his bow seemed to almost shoot itself. The arrow pierced Dimitri’s armor above his knee, and the brute was forced to slow his pace.

An Imperial soldier noticed the crippled lord behind him, and in a moment’s notice turned back around to perhaps finish the job. What could he possibly be looking for? The glory of killing the prince in a moment of retreat? Still, the man let out a strained cry, and Claude didn’t even have to blink before he fired once more right through the man’s chest: dead.

Dimitri who had closed his eyes to prepare for death whipped his head back at Claude in a frenzy. In a way, he almost looked angered that the man had been killed. As if dying was exactly what he wanted.

When the Alliance got word that a suspicious force bearing the Blaiddyd banner had made fast progress towards Gronder field, Claude had made his suspicions. He’d never truly believed that Dimitri was dead. Back then, it had seemed like a crazy pipe dream to have his hopes up, but when he saw the face of a man who’d been believed to be long underground, he had been overjoyed. With the Kingdom on their side, their chances of ending the war would increase ten-fold.

But when the dead prince allowed a low growl to come from his throat at the idea of joining together, the deer came to realize that his dreams were still only fantasies.

“Why did you...”

Dimitri muttered under his breath, but he simply shook his head and stood. It was the first words the man had spoken without screaming. Claude would have gladly said more, but the prince took a quick turn in the opposite direction and made a mad dash to get away. It would have been easy to take down his other knee and carry him back to the Alliance—back to safety, but Claude found himself just watching the man retreat. This was fine he supposed. It was better than watching the Kingdom’s only hope come crashing down.

That was two months ago.

It had been two months since Claude had saved a shell from death. It had been two months since they had connected eyes, and it had been two months since he’d been struck down. His wounds, still not fully healed, ached against his back as if they were still fresh with blood. However, he was forced to ignore it in the hindsight of upcoming events.

The Alliance was cornered. After five long years, they’d finally reached their limit. Edelgard wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity when it was dangling in front of her reach, and so she was readily taking it. Had she forgotten their playful rivalry at the academy? Were the close bonds they’d shared over feasts a faded memory—something that didn’t even exist and was instead conjured up in his soul?

No, of course not. It was war: a war she had started, and a war she had a high chance of winning.

Now she was sending her troops straight to his location. His head was on a bounty now, and Claude knew he had to be smart about this or else someone would become a wealthy man. He was running out of options fast, and turns out that when the bickering nobles were confronted with a problem, they would finally shut up.

There were many nights where Claude would ponder what he would do if they did manage to capture him. His confidants had no answers, and for once in his life, the master tactician was without schemes.

“Send a letter to Faerghus requesting their aid. Maybe we can rely on them.”

“But the Kingdom is still under heavy surveillance of the Empire. We couldn’t possibly ask them for help.”

“Do as I said. The longer you spend going against me, the less time we have before Arundel arrives,” Claude believed that maybe it was foolish. There was no certainty that the rebellious Blue Lions would retake their home. There was no certainty that they were even still alive after disappearing into the shadows once more since the battle.

Still, Claude understood the position he was in, and he was willing to take risks in moments as intense as the one he was experiencing right then. Dimitri owed him in a sense. Would the man who was so hyper fixated on loyalty to his peers be willing to show that same mercy to an old ally? While Claude hated putting his trust in such foolish ideals, he found himself laying his life on the line for a simple act of kindness. 

This had to work.

It didn’t. It wasn’t long after the message had been sent that a passing merchant informed the Alliance leader that the Kingdom was still in Edelgard’s command. No one had appeared on the outskirts of the capital. No one had seen the prince and his soldiers. No one was coming.

He wasn’t much of a crier, but that night in the small corners of his room hidden from the eyes of those that may judge him, he may have shed a tear.

The plans had to be changed. Without the added brute force, Claude would have to perform a guerrilla strategy to try and slow them down while his people escaped. Only then would he have to decide in surrender or a strategic retreat (neither truly being up to his present control, but it was something he could grasp onto as an idea). 

“Are you sure this is going to work, boy? You’re not sounding very confident,” Judith’s rough voice ripped him from his thoughts, and he focused on her leaning figure. She had been working just as hard as him to replace their former plan, and it showed in the creased indentions forming on her face. Her eyes, which had been full of fire the previous month, now dulled down to a boorish shade.

“It has to work,” but hadn’t he said the same thing about the Kingdom which was now turning its back to his plea? Judith’s mouth twisted in disapproval and her stance portrayed that she wanted to say more, but Claude had already departed. There were more things to worry about than his partner’s lecturing over his rule.

The city was evacuating. They weren’t going to depart in time for the upcoming attack, but it was something to hope for. The people left in waves and droves with their heads hanging low to the ground. No one had anticipated that the Alliance would fall so far from its highlighted glory. This was the same nation that had separated from the Kingdom in a valiant war cry that could be heard for centuries? This was the nation that bore some of the most dedicated warriors to be shown to Fodlan’s history books?

Claude would rather the soldiers hate him than have to deal with their blood running through his fingertips. He couldn’t keep that on his conscience, and there was one person, in particular, he couldn’t have die for him.

“Hilda.”

The girl turned around in her seat with her head slightly tilted to the side. Her cheeks were less full than usual—hollow with the weight of the war weighing on them. Still, unlike Judith, her eyes sparkled at her name, and she perked up at the familiar face.

“Claude.”

It was a curtesy bow that didn’t last long. The girl seemed to be stifling her laughter from her usually light-hearted companion, but the man was only allowed a hint of a smile to pass along his face before his eyes went cold again.

“Cute. How are the convoys going? Are all of the supplies secured yet?” When Hilda realized that he wasn’t going to laugh on her lovely bow, she pouted her expression and leaned on the wall. “Don’t tell me you don’t know because it was too much work.”

“I’m not that bad Claude. Besides the merchants from the east side of town, I can assure you that we’re all set for the most part,” that was a relief. If something were to happen—if they were to lose...

Perhaps it was best not to think about that, but when his lingering eyes traveled up the girl’s work down attire and somber expression, he couldn’t help but have thoughts—terrible thoughts.

“Hilda, maybe you should leave with them,” she seemed to roll her eyes at the pure idea of it. He knew she wouldn’t oblige, but he wished that she would at least consider the idea with an ounce of maturity. “Your brother would give me an earful if he found out even a scratch found its way to his baby sister,” the attempt at a light-hearted joke flew right above the now annoyed Hilda’s head. Instead of a laugh, he received a menacing glare.

“I’m not going to die if that’s what you’re thinking, Claude. I may be lazy, but I’m not just going to fall asleep on the battlefield,” At the admittance of calling herself the same term everyone used to describe her demeanor, her cheeks paled a small amount in color. “Besides, if anything you should be the one retreating. Your wounds haven’t healed, and you’re planning to fight like that?”

“How did yo—“

“Marianne told me. You’re a danger to yourself out there, and Dimitri and his goons are cowards for not coming to our aid after they did this to you in the first place,” the last part was added just to make fun of the situation, but Claude simply sighed and closed his eyes to try and process what he should say next. It was obvious he had no hope of convincing her, and honestly, the thought of having her by his side comforted him. “I say we abandon this place and make a refugee somewhere on the coast.”

“Then the Alliance will be declared as defeated, and all of the poor defenseless citizens of the nation will fall as well,” He snapped back without missing a beat, and she simply gave him a sheepish grin.

“It’s better than dying for a cause we can’t win, isn’t it? Are you really planning on dying for this?” Hilda removed the smile from her face and met his eyes. Claude was almost taken aback by the weight of her question: was he willing to die to end a war they couldn’t win? Was he willing to put his soldiers in the hands of the goddess and pray that they’re carried through battle safely after his passing?

Some may call his ambitions boyish pipe dreams that children had when they were dreaming up solutions for problems they had no experience with. He hadn’t told anyone of his plans; with the attention directed more closely on the war then what came after, he wasn’t sure he could. Still, could such a faraway dream truly be worth dying for? Was the unification of Fódlan really that important that it meant more than his life?

“Of course not. That’s why we aren’t going to die in this battle,” his confidence shined through his words, and her expression softened once more. “I’m glad to have you by my side, Hilda. Let’s make it through this battle together. You still have to meet my parents after all,” both of their smiles returned for the briefest of moments, and the small girl stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

“Whatever you say, Leader.”

The days following up after their discussion were grimmer than the last. Nobles bid their farewells to the capitol as they gathered on various boats and wyverns. Many of them left Claude with their best men, but others turned their cheeks and muttered disasters under their breaths for his demise. 

Lorenz was among the evacuating nobles. It wasn’t as if the man had wanted to go the second the option of available. In fact, he had become insistent that he stayed and fight a few times. It was sworn duty after all. Still, Claude somehow managed to convince the uptight man to retreat in case something were to occur where he became unfit to lead after the battle.

They both knew what “unfit” meant in the situation, but avoiding those topics became a common method among the remaining troops.

There were some nights before the battle where Claude became unstable. His anguish over Dimitri’s pure betrayal found its way creeping into his dreams, and he couldn’t help throwing a pen or two at the wall. Of course, the carcass of his former friend wouldn’t believe in silly stuff like loyalty anymore. How could he after striking Claude down in such a manner and not even flinching?

Claude had been a fool.

Still, he wished that the mumbled words at Gronder had meant something. They had felt so incomplete and broken as if he would perhaps finish them at another time—another meeting. On top of that, he had questions. He wanted to know so much about the prince’s survival, but it had been foolish to believe that the man would agree to be interrogated. The Golden Deer could tell anyone that his methods were often too blunt to shy away from.

The day arrived, and Claude situated himself in a small gazebo looking out towards the bay. Before any battle, he always felt his nerves on edge; the rush of adrenaline in his blood surged and pulsed under his skin as if it was alive and breathing. A sick feeling washed over his stomach as the waves below him ravaged and spit their fury into the open air. 

Something in him told him to refresh in the salty taste surrounding the port, but the sound of rushing feet drew his attention back to the present.

“Claude, Arundel has arrived,” Judith laid a hand on his shoulder plate, and another sigh found its way to his lips.

“He’s come earlier than expected, hasn’t he? Aren’t you happy I set everyone up earlier now?” It was a sad smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. Judith was stern-faced staring back at him, but the way her mouth twitched made it as if in another time she would have chuckled. “I’ll go get my wyvern.”

“Boy,” her grip didn’t let up when he tried to depart. Instead, she drew him closer to herself with a small amount of resistance. “Stay out of the fight for this one. I get if you can’t retreat—I do—but stay back here.”

Claude eased himself from her hands and shook his head.

“No can do, Judith. It’d be disgraceful—and don’t call me boy.”

“But you’re injured, Boy. The chances of you screwing everything up are higher in this condition. Don’t you understand that?” A sense of aggression entered her tone the more she talked. Of course, he understood that his death was more likely with his inability to move as well, but he had no other choice. They were after him and only him. They wanted his head. Retreating now would result in a non-strategic chase to the middle of nowhere that would leave him in more risk than the battle ahead.

He’d dug his grave, and now he had to lay in it.

“Go to your post, Judith,” avoiding her question to the best of his ability, he waved her away. She stood still in her spot for a few more wavering seconds before realizing that trying to change his mind would be near impossible. The tapping of her feet into the opposite direction continued until he couldn’t hear her anymore—until the only noise in his ears was a thick intermission and the crashing waves below.

The battle began shortly after she departed. Claude waited a few seconds until he could faintly imagine the tormented screams in the distance before he made an effort to find his wyvern. Despite staying, Claude had no desire to head into battle. He wished for something—anything to happen that prevented it, but this was real life. The goddess wouldn’t protect him here.

The fight had only begun a few minutes prior to his arrival, but the blood spilled was already painting the streets. In the distance, a strong war cry spilled out into the air, and to his left, an Imperial soldier alerted Arundel of his presence. 

In seconds it felt like all eyes turned towards him, and he gave his new audience a little wave before pulling Failnaught out and dodging an incoming attack. Another arrow shot towards him—and another—-and another until he realized that being so low to the ground might be detrimental. Flying a little higher would make it harder for any archers to shoot him down, and he was a decent shot from the distance he was willing to create.

He tugged on the strings of his bow and placed an arrow between his fingertips. Claude aimed at the head of a soldier who had just cornered a civilian and fired right through his chest.

Claude pulled another arrow from his bag and readied his aim once more. The glare in his eyes focused on another soldier who seemed to notice him first and began to run the opposite direction. He squinted and fired.

Arundel was in the distance, and Claude had to admit that something about the man made him uneasy. The way he carried himself was beyond his comprehension: confident and boastful but a slithering secrecy wandered under his facade. His posture was tall and calculated, and the icy state he fixated on Claude made the lord shiver. Although he was too far away to hear, the movement of his mouth alone caused about half of the army to focus on him.

“Claude!” A frantic Hilda shrieked below his wyvern, and Claude swiftly moved to the left to avoid whatever she had been warned him about. Right as he positioned himself out of the incoming weaponry, a lance breezed past his face. If he had dodged a moment too late...

He tilted his head at Hilda to give his thanks before flying higher into the sky to try and prevent such a mistake from occurring again. He’d been distracted.

But it seemed the rest of the army was also becoming increasingly flustered. One by one it seemed that Claude had become nothing but a memory to their attention, and he wondered what could have possibly occurred.

“It’s the Blaiddyd flag! What could have p...” but the shout died out, and Claude knew the look on his face probably showed more weakness than he would like to admit. In a desperate attempt to confirm, he lowered himself slightly in the air and stared into the distance—towards the entrance of the city. 

Dimitri stared back at him.

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd with his scruffy hair and crazed eyes looked directly at Claude with a ready army of troops behind him as if he hadn’t left Claude in a hopeless state for weeks.

As if he hadn’t caused so much suffering within the Alliance leader with his silence.

Still, Claude knew he was smiling like an idiot. The forces Dimitri brought weren’t large in numbers, and he seemed to be lacking his fellow students, but it was still him. He had still come—in a manner of speaking—to save Claude.

His adoration was only short-lived. The wyvern he rode on let out a piercing scream, and his sudden descending spoke volumes in his head. He’d been shot down. Another arrow shot upwards into his shoulder, and another one found his leg as he fell.

He knew people were shouting his name and clinging to their swords once his allies realized his situation; however it was as if the only thing he could focus on was the sound of the wind moving past him. It slapped his hair against his face and cluttered his nostrils until the very thought of flying suddenly seemed to be suffocating.

Claude’s breathing picked up, and he desperately pulled at the reigns for his wyvern to do anything: to move or to fly upwards and land in a safer manner, but the creature tumbled and fell further and further. To brace for impact, he shut his eyes as tight as possible and clenched his teeth.

And then Claude collided with the ground.


	2. A Midnight Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Injured from his fall during the battle, a distraught Claude is caught up on the situation through his generous friends, and a visitor decides to ask the question they've been pondering for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so excited that I ended up writing this chapter in three days. I had a lot of fun trying to create the dialogue this time around, and I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I did writing it!

Falling headfirst into the ground from hundreds of feet in the air wasn’t how Claude expected his day to go. He hadn’t outright said it, but a small part of him had expected his head on a pike of some sort and Arundel cheering for victory—or perhaps mourning faces gazing upon both of their dead bodies because he wouldn’t just let the bastard take his life and not suffer for it.

Even then as he fell, he hadn’t expected to live. To him, those final moments where he stared at the surface below were supposed to be his last. He’d been so focused on the wind because to him, in those fleeting seconds, there would never be another exhilarating feeling to paralyze him in such a way ever again. He would die without completing his dream.

Thank the Goddess that he had been wrong.

The awakening wasn’t as calm or peaceful as he would have liked. It was a sharp jolt that beat into his back—shredding at his head and speaking echoes into the depths of his mind. The energy burst through his veins, and in seconds upon regaining consciousness, Claude flung himself upwards in a frenzy. His shout alerted half of his company in the small, composed tent, but his attention wasn’t focused on them. In fact, it wasn’t focused on anything.

All of his senses flooded his brain in a single crash—the rush from so many emotions plagued his every breath. A smarter Claude would have had better control of these obvious signs of distress, but the quickening of his chest and the quick tilts of his head to recapture himself showed his vulnerability in more ways than one. If someone decided to take a closer look at him, they may even be able to pinpoint a few stray tears.

Marianne stood above him, her blue hair wistfully dangling before his laying figure. Her hands shook on his torso to try and push him back down, and Claude allowed himself to be taken care of. When he complied, she gave him the soft, rare smile that many barely had the chance to ever see before she pressed a wet cloth to his forehead. Her mere presence calmed his nerves enough for him to try and gain a sense of awareness of his surroundings. 

“Where am I?” The voice that emerged from his throat sounded nothing like his own. How long had he been asleep without the usage of his speech? She handed him a cup of water—the origin unknown—and under usual circumstances, he would have asked, but his mouth was unbearably dry. “D-did we win?”

“You’re in Derdriu, Claude,” her hushed voice seemed to bring him back to reality, and he once again propelled himself back into a sitting position. His only priority was returning to the battle. Just like before, she eased him back down despite his childish protests. “Please stop, Claude! You have to calm down!” He’d never been so restless before. He had to get back. He had to get back to the battle to be there for his friends: Hilda, Judith, and the helpless civilians. How could he just be sitting in this dingy tent while his comrades fall before the very bed he lay in?

Another pair of hands pressed him harder into the cushions, and he whipped his head towards the perpetrator. Hilda now was at his bedside with her soft expression and blood-painted face—her grip refused to allow him to even attempt to rise again.

“Hey, Leader Man,” Hilda’s perky tone contrasted her bloodied appearance greatly, and Claude forced himself to refocus on her to the best of his ability. 

“Hilda? What’s going on? Why are you here?” He hated being held down so forcefully like this with no control at all, but his body felt too weak to give the girls anything but his compliance. The wet cloth that had been previously on his forehead had now been thrown off to the side, and Marianne scowled to herself and prepared him a new one. “What about Arundel? What ab—“

She placed a finger to his lips and shushed his questions before he could overwhelm her. 

“We won, Claude.”

“What?” It was a thought that had never even crossed his mind in the short span of his time awake. He’d never even considered that perhaps sitting in the tent away from the battle had also meant that the attack had ceased. Truly, this had all felt like some crazed fever dream from the second he’d opened his eyes.

“Don’t say that like you predicted worse! What else were you expecting!” Despite his obvious injuries, she lightly slapped his arm and shot him a belittling glare. “If you had just opened your ears for longer than two seconds, you could’ve easily been able to tell that there wasn’t any fighting.” Now that he had the moments to calm himself down, he did realize that the previous screams and cries for help that had filled the air before his passing were now replaced by the light lulling of nearby waves, and the smell of blood—still present—had slowly started to cover itself up with the salty taste from the sea.

Claude finally found himself closing his eyes on the bed to try and concentrate on something; his mind was everywhere at once in such a confined space. He had so many questions to ask. He had so many things to do.

“How did we win?” When he opened his eyes again, Marianne seemed to have departed to look for another blanket despite the sweltering heat. Hilda was the only one beside his bed, and her hold on his shoulders had become transfixed on his hands which she held tightly in her grasp. She would never admit it to even him, but the tears in the corners of her eyes were becoming visible to him after closer reconsideration.

At the question, Hilda seemed unsure about whether or not she should answer it. Her lips pressed together in a thin line that rarely appeared unless the girl was pondering something intenser than usual, and her hands seemed to tighten upon his unconsciously with her increased thought. After another minute, she seemed to finally settle on her answer with a small shift of her head towards the opening of the tent.

“Why don’t you go ask your savior?” She was smiling, but it wasn’t one of her joking smiles she tended to give him. This was a shy, closed-off grin as if she was embarrassed to even utter the words. For her sake, he hoped it was a joke.

“My what?” The thought of him having a savior of such anonymity enticed his curiosity, but the uncomfortable look she was giving the entrance of the tent worried him. He leaned slightly in his bedding to try and take a peek towards the spot she was looking at, but he found himself unable to move once he did.

Outside the tent, a familiar man sat on the grassy floor with his head looking to the sky and his hair shadowing his eyes. His face was colored red with the blood of previously slain enemies, and his large, hunched figure looked odd beside the sheets of the small tent. The killer stare he happened to give anyone that walked by was unfit for the hospitable environment, but the entire situation struck Claude as odd.

He’d completely forgot about Dimitri’s arrival—the sole reason for his deathly tumble out of the sky. To him, the encounter had been some silly fantasy in his head to try and cope with the amount of stress he’d accumulated over the coming weeks, but there Dimitri was outside his tent. He was close enough where if Claude called his name then he might be able to hear and come inside to chat for a while. He was close enough that if Claude just closed his eyes and breathed, he might be able to get the courage to approach the prince himself.

But Hilda’s previous reluctance caught his attention once again, so he refrained from any sort of interaction for the time being. Besides, Dimitri had probably chosen his spot by the tent because it was close enough to hear most of the conversation going on inside. If he wanted to speak to Claude, he could come and do it himself.

“When you fell, no one was close enough to retrieve you,” she began speaking to him from his side, but Claude kept his eyes fixated on Dimitri to avoid her gaze. He already knew that the look she was giving him was going to be one of disappointment. “We thought you were going to die there. Those stupid soldiers were already closing in.”

“But?”

“—but then there was this... terrifying scream, and the next thing I knew, he had you and half of Arundel’s army was on the floor dead,” The way her voice dropped slightly when she finished her retelling shook Claude’s resolve. “For a second I thought he killed you too, you know. You looked so gone, but he ended up handing you to Marianne, and he’s been outside this tent ever since.”

Suddenly Dimitri’s eyes met with Claude’s and the strategist quickly diverted his attention back to Hilda as if he hadn’t spent the last few minutes gawking. He understood his friend’s hesitance to even address the prince’s presence, and he nearly felt the same way. It was a shame his curiosity seemingly got the best of him, and a small part of him wished to sneak another look at the man outside.

Claude hated being so helpless in the situation, and he definitely hated the idea of being in debt to someone, but Dimitri had far outdone himself in any favor he owed Claude. Not only had he saved his life, but it seemed that the rampage had also had a part in turning the tides of the battle. Not only would the loss of Arundel be a major setback for the Empire, but the possible allied forces of the Kingdom along with the new advantage might even...

Claude didn’t just owe Dimitri a favor; he owed him the war.

The thought alone brought his eyes back to the incoming Marianne. He could think about those details later. The girl returned and placed a cleaner towel on his forehead and sighed. She assessed the situation and realized that the man had finally come to his senses, and her tense facade faded. 

“What does he plan to do?” Dimitri kept his eyes on Claude for a few more lingering seconds before he turned his body once more to the open city.

“No idea. He hasn’t spoken a word to anyone. If anyone tries to interact with him, he just goes,” and Hilda snarled her mouth as if she was a dog—a low growl coming from her throat. Marianne giggled beside her, and a few of the other nobles occupying the tent whipped their head around at such a joyful sound. “Even Marianne tried to talk to him. She tried giving him some water.”

“And I’m assuming he did whatever Hilda’s performance was as well?” Claude looked at the other girl, and she nodded slowly as if the very memory haunted her. Hilda lightly slapped his arm, but the motion caused him to flinch. “That’s not very productive. What about any of his friends? What have they said about our lovely prince?”

“I wish we could ask, but they’re not here. It looks like he came alone,” Claude would have easily pressed more on the issue, but Lorenz made his way into the tent as if he’d practiced his arrival for weeks. He scanned the situation before finalizing his view on Claude and giving off a small grin. It wasn’t overly elated, but it had the hints of sincerity behind whatever ill expression he put forth. The recipient of said smile shot him a wink in retaliation, his false charm reviving for only a few moments.

“Lorenz.”

“Claude. Glad to see you’re not dead I suppose. It would have been a setback if you had fallen in such a terrible time,” He pauses for a moment to think over his next words—his fingers smoothed through his hair as he pondered. “Of course, the Alliance would have been left in capable hands. I’m sure I would have done a fine job in your absence.”

“As I expected of my perilous rival. What brings you in here, my friend? Do some of your men need my help?” But when Claude attempted to shift out of bed, a striking pain ran up his spine. The impact was so heavy on him that he lurched back into the bed almost instantaneously and let out a wracking cough.

Marianne quickly took hold of a bowl on a nearby table and cupped it to his lips to drink. He gladly accepted it.

“Well seeing as you’ve been asleep for the past two days—“

“What?” Claude refrained from moving this time with a fragile Marianne now caring for him. Still, it was obvious he hadn’t expected so much time to have passed since his tumble, but he probably should have expected such a delay after the near-death experience. Lorenz looked down upon him until he regained his composure.

“Your companions wish to see you. Of course, I’m not so sure if that’s acceptable considering your condition. I was wondering if I should send them off?”

“Oh Lorenz, you’re talking about them as if they aren’t your friends too,” Hilda yawned beside the bed, but she was now standing up to depart.

“I’m just simply assessing the situation to our leader. I’m fully aware of our relationship, Hilda,” the fondness that shined in his eyes mirrored the remnants of a laugh. Hilda stalked beside him and lightly put her hand on Marianne’s shoulder.

“Let them in. I can handle a few guests,” but Marianne had already started shaking her head before he finished.

“Claude, you’re very sick. You don’t realize the situation you’re in right now,” The tone of her voice was so quiet that you almost had to lean in to fully understand everything she was saying. Her eyes shifted between his face and the floor; the sweat from her forehead indicated the tireless nights she had probably spent trying to keep him stable. “You can’t walk. The nerves in your legs were damaged heavily after the fall, but I managed to heal them to the best of my ability.”

“But I still can’t walk?”

“Not now. You’ll have to wait two weeks until you can walk, and even then your wounds... they won’t be healed for months afterward. I tried my best, but you were so injured a—“ Tears found their ways to the corners of her eyes, and Claude looked in the opposite direction from his friends. He was immobile for weeks in a war where he was one of the main targets, and another target was outside on his doorstep. 

Hilda shushed her quietly off to the side, and the girl composed herself from her near breakdown. Lorenz stayed for a few more seconds, but he left soon after. Marianne had answered his question after all, and his snooty personality had no place in the grim tent.

Goddess, what if Edelgard decided to attack in the time they waited? Claude would easily be captured in the state he was in, and then the war would come crashing down with the Empire above all. All because he couldn’t take his eyes off of his guest.

For once Claude hated his ignited curiosity.

“That’s why perhaps a hug from Raphael isn’t the best idea at the moment. I don’t want anything to happen to make your condition worse,” she mumbled the last bit into her hands, and he nodded.

“I understand, Marianne. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me so far—I really do.”

The entire conversation had ruined his mood. Everything afterward became a blur of events. Hilda left, and Marianne attempted at small talk, but Claude passed his awkwardness off as a side effect of being exhausted. To that, she pardoned herself from the area and left him to rest. The lie was only halfway untrue though. All of the communication after immediately waking up tired him to no end, but Claude could have easily made conversation if he tried hard enough. The problem was that he just didn’t feel like trying.

The sleep that followed his awakening was short, but he found comfort in it. Unlike the dark abyss he had found himself in during his temporary coma, the warmth of the bay he was now aware of stuck to him through his dreams. He was floating in a thick, hazy glow. Whatever his nurses had been giving him, the pain from his legs was numbed to the point that he didn’t even feel it anymore.

However, while he slept an odd feeling overcame him after awhile. It was the feeling an animal of prey gained in the presence of a predator. His dreams didn’t start with that, but near the end of his slumber, they came. It was as if his body was telling him that something had changed outside of his mind.

It was as if something was wrong.

Claude opened his eyes—in a much calmer fashion than earlier in the day—and the first thing he noted was that the light outside had faded into a dark, enclosing shade. It must’ve been midnight at the minimum. Various stars could be seen through the slit of the cloth, and a part of his heart yearned to ignore his requests to stay in bed and venture for them, but he understood that he was still drowsy from his nap. It would be easy to make a mistake and slip in his condition.

Next, he noticed that he was alone in the tent. The nobles that had roamed the space in that short period were now somewhere else—probably in their beds asleep or doing other affairs. That was good. He’d rather not have some stuffy nobles watching him sleep.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Claude realized that perhaps his odd feeling had just been apart of his dream. Surely whatever was wrong was in his head, so he laid his head back down and closed his eyes.

“You.”

It only took one word to make the man flip over to his opposite side—the one side he had refrained from checking. It was a foolish mistake to not have looked, but he was so tired at the time that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that someone could be behind him.

Of course, it was Dimitri who had uttered the words as if it was the hardest thing he could have possibly done in the situation. The shadows hid his significant features, but Claude could tell it was him from a mile away. He was practically leaning over the Alliance leader in the bed as if he was going to run in the opposite direction in his fatal condition.

“Is watching me sleep your thing, or did you need something?” Claude chuckled at his own joke after Dimitri failed to speak again following his menacing introduction. The prince didn’t even blink to react and instead leaned closer to Claude. With the way he squinted his eye and swiftly examined him, it made him feel exposed in a sense. “Okay. No talking then, I guess?”

“Shut up.”

“Alright,” Claude knew that defying him wouldn’t end well, and he hated to admit it, but Dimitri could easily kill him in the situation and never think twice about it. He had no idea where his weapons were, the nearest soldiers were probably fast asleep, and Dimitri obviously had a strength unknown to even Claude himself. Trying to take him on alone would be a fate worse than death.

After a while, Dimitri moved away from Claude into an empty seat beside his bed. He let out a small grunt as he moved; it was clear that he was slightly injured. Did he want Claude to patch his wounds?

“I know you just told me to shut up, but I have to thank you for what you did for the Alliance,” Dimitri gave him another grunt in reply, and Claude took that as a pass to speak. “—and for me. I may be speaking on behalf of the Alliance, but you saved my life,” It was hard to see exactly where Dimitri was looking in the dim moonlight, but the position of his face made Claude feel like he was looking at him.

“Do not thank me for something so foolish. It was the act of a beast and nothing more. Did your dogs not tell you of what I did?” Finally, he spoke, and his voice came out as if it hadn’t been used properly in years. 

“They did,” He wasn’t a fan of the word “dogs” to describe his friends, but he complied with the question. “My hand is still extended to you despite that though. No matter how you did it, it still happened, and now it’s done.” Dimitri couldn’t hide the obvious shock on his face as the words left his mouth. He escaped the look of Claude by staring at the edge of the bed. Obviously, he had come for more than just blind praise from his fellow lord, but he seemed to be having immense difficulty finding the right words for it. 

“Why did you save me on that day, Claude?”

There it was: it was the question that had most likely been on his mind since he’d uttered the same words in their last meeting. It was the sole reason the man had decided to go out of his way to play the part of Claude’s savior.

How was he expected to answer a question even he didn’t know the answer to? In the moment, nothing had crossed his mind, and for once in his short life, he hadn’t even considered the consequences of his actions. It was as if his hands moved on his own, and he fired. There wasn’t a set reason for his rescue, but here was the recipient in front of him asking for the single thing he didn’t have a response for.

“I don’t know.”

That angered the blonde in front of him. Even in the darkness, the fist tightening by his side didn’t go unnoticed by Claude, and he felt his shoulders tense.

“You have to know,” Dimitri seemed more strained than before when he spoke, and his teeth seemed to be gritting together as if he was holding something back—holding himself back. “Would it not have been smarter to just allow me to die? I killed your men in battle. I slaughtered countless soldiers out of trivial fun, yet you allowed me to live. You must have a reason.”

“Well, I don’t, Dimitri. It just happened,” He avoided eye contact out of fear what he would see before him. He wasn’t particularly scared of Dimitri in the situation. It was more of being afraid of what exactly he could do at the moment. “Is it really so bad to want to save a friend from their death?”

“You are a fool to think we are friends,” but Claude noted that Dimitri failed to look at him when he said such a foul statement. That alone brought a warm sensation to his heart as if maybe the corpse in front of him wasn’t entirely devoid of friendship. “If you truly wish to acquire the help of a beast, you will pay for it with your life.”

“Good thing I’m not asking for help from a beast then,” but Dimitri had already gotten up and left as if he’d never even been there. The space he had been occupying was as empty as it should have been when Claude woke up, and the air of the tent had shifted to focus on one person alone.

A large breath exited his lungs that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding during the exchange, and the tactician shut his eyes as tight as he could. A part of him was disappointed that things weren’t turning out how he’d planned them to go in the slightest. He’d expected the prince to be a king now, and his friends were supposed to be accompanying the newly-made monarch. There were supposed to be forever lasting peace treaties that extended beyond the war, and they were to ask for Edelgard’s hand in a deal she couldn’t decline: the end to the bloody war.

Things were supposed to be better, but they weren’t. Instead, the Alliance had gained the help of a troubled war criminal who ran away from his friends and family just to ask questions that would have been just as answerable with the aide of a few more Kingdom battalions that were absent due to Dimitri’s unknown reasons. Goddess help them when his friends happened to catchword of his victories in Derdriu and assumed that Claude was holding him hostage (or some other nonsense). He liked talking, sure, but it wasn’t his favorite conversation topic when it was deciding between full-on war or a shaky treaty over the welfare of a broken man.

Another part of him on the other hand—a simpler childish version of himself—was becoming intrigued by the so-called broken man. It wasn’t as if they’d been the best of friends in their time at the academy, but they hadn’t been enemies in the slightest. Dimitri had once been a polite young man with his future set before him, and Claude had admired that slightly. Such pure innocence had been an attractive personality trait to interact with.

Now he was a ruthless killer who had no problem slitting the throats of those opposing his word. Claude couldn’t help his mind from wandering to the possibilities for such a drastic change in character. Had five years truly done him so terribly?

Claude sighed into his pillow and allowed himself to drift off into a slumber. He was too tired to keep hypothesizing over things he would hopefully figure out in time. Perhaps he could talk to his (hopefully) new ally about it in the morning.

Dimitri didn’t return for four days after their encounter.


	3. The Liberating Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri drops off of Claude's radar for an entire week, and the bedridden leader finds himself anxious to both leave his cot to explore where his guest may have run off to and to relieve his building stress. Four days after their tense first encounter, he discovers that he may be able to do both at once with the help of the vacant prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to finishing the next chapter! I had plenty of fun typing away at this between classes and homework, and reading the comments you guys occasionally leave me makes my day. This chapter is actually the longest one so far. I'm not sure if people enjoy longer chapters over shorter ones, but I'm making an attempt to keep each chapter at a range of 3K to 6K words. I hope this chapter satisfies everyone!

“Claude!”

Raphael was the first in the tent, and his arms wrapped around the leader as gentle as he possibly could, which wasn’t saying much. The sheer exerted force in the action took everyone aback, and the grunt following made Marianne’s eyebrows crease with worry. Still, the smile that had already formed on Claude’s face was unrivaled.

It was as if a band of entourage found their way to the backstage of an opera show with the way they crowded around him in the bed. Clustered voices battled one another to try and be heard over the combined chatter, and laughter ensued not long after the pushing and shoving. They were the only ones in the tent as of that day; the need to quiet down was no longer necessary without any stuffy nobles breathing down their backs. For once since the war first started, the soldiers were allowed to fret over their leader like children.

It had been a lonely pursuit in the tent alone. Four days had passed since he first woke up, and the feeling in his legs was slowly returning with each growing day. Truly, Claude wished that he could just stand and walk out to see more than the ugly beige cloths he was forced to see daily. It wasn’t that he hated the color, but having nothing to do for days on end made him antsy. It was as if there was a constant itch in his side, and usually, he only cured those itches by doing something: getting into arguments, chasing down his friends, or maybe even flying his wyvern—none of which was available to him at the moment. 

A smaller man was the second to receive a hug, and his arms wrapped around Claude in a tight embrace. The glasses positioned above his nose seemed to be cracked from the hardships of the war, and they brushed against the edges of his face. The man whispered a quick saying into Claude’s ear—something about how happy he was that he was alive—and then he parted and allowed more of the visitors to make their way through.

This continued for a short period of exchanged hugs and laughter, and the grim mood from the past week slowly began to fade into a disturbed memory. Sure, Claude had things he should be worrying about like the Alliance’s next move, but the other ruling leaders had been kind enough to refrain from making visits during his time of injury; although, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing considering his expanding boredom.

The only nagging noble who’d truly made an effort to check up on him was Lorenz, and even then Claude had a feeling that even those visits had more of a purpose to check up on his condition rather than to actually get his opinion on the pressing matters of who was going to entertain the homeless children of the capitol. That was a concerning matter, but it wasn’t exactly something someone in such a high position as himself would usually take the time to assess—not with such a ravenous war on their hands.

Hilda had also visited him occasionally, but with Claude bedridden, she had been forced to assume a position besides Lorenz and attend the Alliance meetings as Claude’s official right-hand man. Of course, the girl found it necessary to whine to him immediately after each affair as if it was the most torturous thing she could have ever been forced to experience, but she could have easily given the position to someone else. In the back of his mind, he liked to think that she was forcing herself to put in the effort because of him—because she didn’t want to let him down.

But that was only a silly pipe dream. Her brother was probably just forcing her to have a part in the process.

“You’re so reckless, you know that?” Lysithea was the last to offer her support, and she tilted her nose in the air upon speaking as if just looking at him made her frustrated.

“I’m overjoyed that you’re so worried about me,” the tone in his voice was deadpanned, but the grin on his face contradicted his emphasis. The girl’s cheeks darkened in a shade of red at the comment, and she looked at her shoes instead to avoid further confrontation. “I’m glad to see that you’re all as lively as ever. It would be a shame if you guys showed up c...” his eyes honed in on something on Ignatz’s finger, a small gasp escaping his mouth, “Ignatz is that a ring I see?”

It was an attempt to remove the attention from him. His friends seemed to have taken interest in the way Claude struggled to breathe under the weight of their hugs, and their eyes lingered for too long over at Marianne as if they were seconds from asking her about him. He’d rather move the focus off of himself for as long as he could in exchange for the few precious moments he rarely had the chance to experience. What fun would their reunion be if it was crowded in the heavy topic of his fatal injuries?

Ignatz quickly hid his finger behind his back, but Raphael let out a hearty laugh and ripped his arm out into the open to show off everyone. They all leaned forward towards the pair, and a collective gasp ran among them; a ring rested on Ignatz’s third finger as if he was to be wed. 

“I can not believe this is the first time we’re hearing about this! Ignatz how could you?” Hilda pouted her lips at the boy, and she found a seat on Claude’s bedside to further continue her act. A few more agreed with her outburst. “All those nights spent in boring meetings that I could have spent congratulating you and your new partner. It would have been the perfect excuse, and now it’s ruined. You’ve really let me down Ignatz.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Leonie piped up, and Raphael who hadn’t let go of Ignatz’s hand gave them his biggest smile.

“It’s my lil’ sis!” The joy in the room seemed to drain instantaneously, and the looks the two of them received were skeptical at best. Ignatz’s embarrassment burned on his face, and he took his time raising his head from the palm of his only available hand. “They really hit it off, didn’t you, buddy? Then I started thinking, and I realized there’s no one better for her than Iggy!” The man finally dropped the fist in his grasps and awaited what he had expected to be happy cheers.

“You don’t think that’s a little weird, Raphael?” Hilda started, but Lorenz cleared his throat to stop her in her tracks, and he rested his hand on Ignatz’s shoulder.

“I’m very happy for your engagement Ignatz, and I wish you the best in your endeavors,” His tone matched one of an uptight noble that had practiced the sentences in his head thousands of times before. Claude leaned over to Hilda and mimicked the hand motions he made, and she allowed herself a giggle before quickly fixing her composure once Lorenz turned to see the fuss. “Do you have something to add, Claude?”

“No, not at all!”

Claude hadn’t realized how little he’d smiled during the war until those bittersweet moments among his allies. Although not all of his grins were heartfelt, and he was afraid to admit that only a handful were true, it was odd keeping his facade for longer than a mere few seconds.

Despite this, Claude had other things on his mind. A week into his imprisonment in his bed, and Claude found himself wondering where his “joyful” guest was. Ever since that first night, it was as if the very taste of Dimitri had left the camp’s mouth. If Claude were to ask a passing civilian if they had seen a tall, blonde man who looked like a coat hanger from behind, they would call him deluded from his medicine as if such a person came from fantasies. Even Hilda, who was supposed to be keeping a close eye on all affairs alongside Lorenz, acted as if she hadn’t a clue where the man had wandered off to.

Claude wouldn’t say he missed Dimitri. They didn’t know each other, and the last time they had spoken, Dimitri had been too dazed to even see reason. It was as if a cloud hovered in front of his eyes, and he made it clear that he had no intention of reviving their friendly relations from before. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from constantly pestering Hilda on the matter. 

“Why do you care so much?” She would always ask with an apple in her mouth lounging on the single chair next to his bed. Claude would always have an excuse up his sleeve. She’d seen what Dimitri could do in battle, and she wasn’t the slightest bit worried about what he could be doing?

Perhaps scaring Hilda wasn’t the best idea, but seeing her squirm made him chuckle.

“Claude? You look a little bothered there? Can we get you something?” The sound of Leonie’s voice brought him back to the celebration, and he whipped his head up to meet her eyes. The laughter died down, and Marianne seemed to be beside herself that she had forgotten to check up on his condition with the added stress. She quickly rushed to check his temperature, but he eased her off of him the best he could.

“Well, you could get me a free ticket out of here,” it was a light-hearted joke on his end.

“Not happening. You can’t leave this bed for another week, Leader Man—Marianne’s orders,” Hilda offered him a cup of water, but he rolled his eyes and pushed it away.

He hated being treated like a child.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t walk at all. In the secret hours of the night when he stayed awake in hope that something interesting would occur, he would sometimes find himself testing his legs out. They hurt like knives in certain points, and the numbness that shot through his veins always took him by surprise, but flying didn’t require strain on the legs. He just needed to get up and mount his wyvern.

He just needed to do something—anything.

Claude found his chance after his friends departed. In fact, the opportunity came later in the following night as if something had heard his wishes.

The rustling caught his attention first. Sleep hadn’t been far off at the time, but the feeling of a disturbance in the area left him with a sick sensation in his stomach. The wind wasn’t a stranger to moving the sheets of the bed during the evening, but this was different; it was larger and alive. A part of Claude told him to go back to sleep; it was just a stray dog taking residence in the tent for the night, but the childhood spent watching his back in Almyra hadn’t left him senseless.

So he opened his eyes, and the entire scene felt so familiar. There was only the faint moonlight outside, and the entrance of the canvas was disturbed. It wasn’t how it had been left when Claude closed his eyes just a few minutes prior.

“Claude.”

He turned his head around to meet a brooding Dimitri face to face in the same chair he’d been in a week prior. Nothing much had changed of his appearance beside the fact that it seemed that even more blood had taken residence on his rough features. His hair was matted up around the roots, and the armor he wore seemed to have started rusting without proper care.

For a while neither of them said anything, and Claude wondered if Dimitri had expected a reaction of some sort. With his uncomfortable silence and harsh stares, he was hard to read especially in the dark.

“Is watching me sleep becoming a habit of yours? Not saying I’m against the idea, your princeliness, but I’m not sure if it’s the most entertaining hobby in your position,” Claude tried cracking a joke to ease the growing tension in the room, but what had been meant to spark joy instead brought a sudden lunge towards his position. He couldn’t help letting out a strangled cry upon the change, but instead of receiving the expected blow to the face for such a careless joke, he was instead lifted up.

The pain that crept up his spine paralyzed him from even attempting to resist the advance, and he instead settled on frantically scanning his new captor.

“Care to explain why you’ve decided to pick me up? Once again not complaining, but my doctor made it quite clear that I shouldn’t make any attempts to move for another week at m—“

“Shut up,” Dimitri growled into his ear as they seemed to be exiting the tent. It wasn’t like he had to tell Claude twice. Even without the command, the overwhelming feeling of leaving the stuffy pavilion left him speechless.

Derdriu was quiet in the night, unlike Almyra which would have been bustling with life right around midnight. Soldiers crowded in small make-shift tents around collapsed buildings as a result of the intense fighting that had taken place. The only light escaping into the streets was faint in the crevasses of the city, and they highlighted stains in what was once a beautiful port.

The medical tent had been so separated from society; it had been hard to tell from his corner that he wasn’t in the proximity of anyone else. While the thought of being alone from the intensity of the war brought him a feeling of serenity, it was obvious the efficiency of the action wasn’t at its best. If Dimitri had no difficulty escaping to his room despite his large size, some flaws in security needed addressing. He could hold himself with a knife if needed, but his weapons were still stripped of him in case he woke up in a fevered delusion and attempted to harm himself.

Dimitri took Claude in his arms and trudged to the back of the tent with no intention of slowing down despite his numerous injuries. The silence was nearly unbearable—the need to start up some sort of conversation itched in the back of his throat like some sort of disease, but his captor had specifically told him to shut up in the politest way possible.

If the two of them had been separated from society before, Dimitri was making sure they were nothing more than a memory in the direction he was taking them. Before, the entire situation had only struck Claude with a humorous tone, but now, he no longer saw the candle lights in houses or the soldiers’ quarters. Instead, he recognized the moving waves ahead of the passing ocean and the wood planks of the bay. A feeling of anxiety began to present itself in his heart, but he tried his best to now show his growing fear in front of Dimitri. He had to trust that Dimitri wouldn’t kill him after going through so much trouble keeping him alive.

“You brought me to my wyvern?” The rest of the sentence died in his throat as the familiar brown wings of his favored animal came into view. It was the same one that he had ridden on in his fall, and she seemed to be doing in much better shape than he was.

Wyverns were more used to flying and falling than someone as wimpy as Claude was. It had been one of his first falls out of the sky with the other times being to poor etiquette: the lack of riding equipment, the overconfidence of a cocky child, and the distractions of the environment around him. One look at Dimitri reminded him that this still was another one of those childish falls despite the heavier consequences.

Dimitri didn’t respond to his question almost as if he hadn’t heard it at all, and they paused in front of it. The entire situation rubbed him the wrong way, but the joy in his eyes was unrivaled. She had cuts and bruises along the sides of her wings, and her underbelly looked scarred to hell from the multiple piercings, but she was here. His wyvern was here.

“Why is she out of the stables?” When Claude finally made eye contact with Dimitri again, the blonde hadn’t changed his bleak stare that seemed fixated on seeing Claude’s next move, but his frown had become more neutral once they reached their location. “It’s just a question, Dimitri.”

“Get on,” he mumbled under his breath, and Claude knew his annoyance was getting the better of him. The refusal to answer his questions was getting on his last nerves. At least with other students in the Academy, he had been able to at least coax out a defense mechanism, but the prince seemed insistent on completely ignoring all of his requests.

“How did you even know I wanted to see her? I’m not getting on h—woah!” Claude was thrown upon his wyvern as if he weighed the same amount as a pillow, and he let out a loud wheeze. When he finally regained his composure, Dimitri had crossed his arms below him as if debating what his next course of action should be. “Answer my question, Dimitri.”

“Does it really matter? Just fly your beast and be done with it,” Claude’s eyes widened at the order, and he finally realized that his wyvern was suited up with her saddle and reigns as if ready to take flight.

“I-I can’t fly her? I’m injured!” It was an obvious excuse, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. It had been a foolish dream to want to truly ride his wyvern, and without the strength of his legs, he wouldn’t be able to have a tight grip on her. His feet failed to find the necessary slots with their hindered mobility, and Dimitri seemed to finally come to terms with the man’s inability to do the simplest of things. “Hey, let's just go back. I’m sure the guards will be checking on me soon, and it would be a problem if they saw me out of bed, wouldn’t it? This obviously isn’t the best id—and you’re crawling up here.”

“You are a fool for hurting yourself for my sake,” Dimitri gritted his teeth once he mounted the wyvern, and he handed Claude the reigns.

“Who told you that?” Silence followed, but Claude had a feeling he knew exactly who had decided to run her mouth in the presence of the prince. The hold on the rope tightened along with his reminder to scold Hilda yet again for spreading false gossip. “I don’t understand what you’re doing, so do you care to fill me in?”

One look behind him at Dimitri startled Claude slightly. Although he was relatively close, the worry forming on his expression could have been seen from miles away. A thin line pressed on his eyebrows and pushed them down, and a small pout carved into his mouth. It was the most emotion other than rage and indifference that he’d ever seen in the man: unease.

“Are you scared of flying this, Dimitri?” The blonde snapped his head to finally realize that Claude was staring at him, and all of the emotion from before vanished entirely. “No need to hide your excitement, my friend. I can’t fly her in my condition anyway, so you shouldn’t worry,” 

“Fly.”

“I just said that I can’t. My grip is failing me,” He couldn’t allow his frustration to shine through, but Dimitri was so dead to anything Claude said it seemed. Still, neither one of them removed themselves from the wyvern, and Dimitri forcefully put his own feet in the slot meant for Claude’s. The entire position was wrong on so many levels, and the perfectionist inside of him itched to escape. This was exactly how falls happened. 

Somewhere in their shuffling, Dimitri wrapped his arms in a protective embrace over Claude’s sides. It wasn’t caring or affectionate in any way, but the contact startled him all the same.

“Your highness, I would really like to get a better understanding of what’s going on if you wouldn’t mind,” the wyvern underneath them seemed to be growing antsy with the growing time spent on the ground. It seemed that she too missed their expeditions into the night.

“You are giving me a headache with your whining,” It was the first time in what felt like years that Dimitri actually acknowledged something Claude said. He let out a hushed groan—mumbling incoherent words to himself—before simply tightening his hold. “Fly, and I will provide my assistance if it feels like you are to slip.”

“Dimitri, I love risks as much as the next guy, but only when I have to take them. I appreciate you taking me out here for whatever your reason was, and I’ll gladly discuss what you need ins—“ Dimitri ripped the reigns from Claude’s grip, raised both his arms high in the air, and he brought them down with as much force as it took to lift Claude. A loud clap echoed into the darkness, and the wyvern took off.

Dimitri had no idea how to fly a wyvern, and it showed. He was too big—too much of a brute on top of the creature. He tended to tug the rope too far to the left and cause them to rocket to the ground, and in an attempt to save them from sudden death, he would cause them to shoot straight into the sky. Perhaps if Claude was witnessing it all on the ground away from the scene, he would be amused by it all, but sitting in front of the prince and getting a first-person view made him sick instead.

Claude turned around the best he could and snatched the cords back from his captor. He wrapped them around the knuckles of his hands and allowed himself to calm down despite the ground growing closer in view  
The wyvern eased upwards when he tugged her slightly; no force was truly needed to guide such a smart creature. Once she was steady with a clear-cut path to the middle of nowhere, Claude finally exhaled the breath he’d hidden ever since they took off. When he felt himself sliding upwards with the bobbing motion of his wyvern, Dimitri finally regained his composure and replaced his hands on Claude’s sides once more to prevent him from sliding off and hurting himself even more than he already was.

Claude should have been mad—furious even—but the view from atop of the very thing he’d been wishing for the entire week bewitched him. It wasn’t his favorite smell, but the whiff of saltwater coming in from the sea traveled straight to his head and forced him to shut his eyes as tight as possible. The smells of the wet ground below them and the traces of something else indistinguishable combined with the familiar movements of flying to shock him back into temper parry daze.

When he opened his eyes again, it felt like the sky had suddenly become endless with the awakening of his newfound awareness. Claude brought his reins down and the wyvern flew higher into the sky to allow the duo to gain a better sense of their surroundings, but in Claude’s defense, he just wanted to improve his view of the area.

Here in the air, he knew how childish he appeared to outsiders, and he knew he would have to deal with an earful of distrust if anyone was to find out about his journey. It would be even worse if Dimitri, who had yet to reveal his intentions for the kind action, was caught up in the power scramble of nobles. He would have to keep his name quiet and insist he had walked on his own.

As if Marianne would believe that.

But he could worry about that later. Now, he could fly without caring for anything but himself. Unlike Dimitri, Claude’s sharp turns held strategy in the way he moved, and they were neatly coordinated.

The prince failed to notice that, and his strong grip was nearly crushing Claude’s airway with each fall. That simply restricted Claude from continuing his stunts, and they were reduced to a slow flight to just take in the scenery passing them by. Words were rare among them unless it was a small laugh from Claude or a quick gasp from his large friend, but for once he didn’t focus on the silence. For once, he found it acceptable.

After a few more minutes, the fears of being caught crept back into Claude’s mind. He allowed a more rational side of himself to steer them back to the same secluded spot as before, and once the wyvern touched the ground, any joy he’d felt slowly began to fade. Still, a smile stuck to his face, and he went to look at Dimitri who had yet to remove himself.

“Your hair is a mess,” Claude usually wasn’t a very blunt person, but he couldn’t help it when the sight in front of him so closely brought him back to their moments as students when Claude would catch Dimitri watching him. It was a stare of awe that the younger version of himself had shared, and it appeared most whenever Claude had previously won in a friendly duel. The look he had now resembled that, but something else was there—a conflicted look of someone who was struggling to decide on which emotion to show. Claude knew it so well because it was a look he too had in times of desperation among council meetings; the times when all hope for his plans seemed lost. “Thank you for your concern up there. I’m afraid that if you hadn’t been there, I would have fallen.”

“I couldn’t care less for what happens to you,” Dimitri finally lost any expression on his face and hopped off of the wyvern with ease.

“Ah, that's right. I forgot that you wanted something,” Dimitri hadn’t turned to help him down, and Claude feared that he might have to hop off himself. “What can the famous Master Tactician help you with, my friend?”

“Answer my question,” it didn’t even take a second of consideration before Dimitri spat out the words with more venom than he’d shown the entire night. Claude eyed the grass—still unsure if he should attempt to make the jump with all of the adrenaline he had in himself or just beg for assistance. The former sounded more plausible. Still, at the demand, Claude racked his brain about what question he could have possibly had. When Dimitri noticed his delay, he spoke once more, “from a few nights ago.”

“About why I saved you? Dimitri, I already told you my reasoning behind it,” Claude decided he would try to make the jump after a few more exchanges of dialogue if Dimitri failed to assist him on his own.

“I have done what you wanted, so give me your real reasoning. What could you possibly want from a beast such as myself?” Dimitri strained his voice slightly, and Claude finally pieced together why it had taken so long for Dimitri to approach him again. Ever since that night, he had been thinking—thinking of the meaning behind Claude’s words. He’d been trying to form a plan to get under Claude’s good favor. He’d been listening in on passing nobles and his dearest friends to try and learn anything about him that he could use.

Dimitri was so deluded that hearing something as genuine from an absolute stranger couldn’t be believed. Whatever Claude said, Dimitri wouldn’t—he couldn’t believe.

“Dimitri, you’re a good person who’s done terrible things,” Claude watched his reaction from a close distance away, and Dimitri turned to stare at him with a crazed look in his eye. “I can’t tell you anything else besides that, but it’s the truth.” He eased his foot to try and touch the slot for his foot to help himself down, but he instead slipped and fell face-first into the dirt.

For a while, he believed that Dimitri had abandoned him for dead, but a pair of arms pulled him up into a cradled position, and he oddly found himself grateful for being treated like an infant for once. He understood his limits now after the excursion even though he made no promises not to test them again.

“You’re an idiot, Claude,” Dimitri whispered in an almost delicate manner, and Claude chuckled into his fur coat to try and mask the obnoxious coughing that followed. “I suppose trying to convince you will just result in failure, so I’ll just have to find out myself.”

“Can’t I just be genuine? Is it so bad that I cared enough to save you?” Claude didn’t express as much resistance as he had before, and Dimitri wasn’t as quick to quiet him as prior. He didn’t respond, and Claude decided to take advantage of the man’s sudden friendliness. “Why did you come to Derdriu without your friends, Dimitri?”

He didn’t speak for a few minutes, and Claude feared that he had crossed the line. His eyes wandered to anything he could try and focus on from his position.

“I don’t know,” That was his settled on answer, and Claude didn’t try to make him budge. The entire affair had been more physical activity than he’d had in a week, and it was more draining than he’d expected. 

They arrived back in his tent, and Dimitri set Claude back down for what appeared the be the last time. Before he could strike up a conversation though, the man had exited as quickly as he’d arrived. 

It wasn’t as if Claude expected Dimitri to stay, but he’d at least imagined that an exchange of goodbyes would take place. He waited a few more seconds to see if he would return but decided on just laying down to rest. He would have stayed like that if a collection of noises hadn’t begun to emerge from the exit.

There was more crowded rustling outside his tent, and a strained groan escaped from the opening. With a slow turn back towards the area he’d just been in, it was hard to focus on the figure that sat outside his tent as if guarding it. The scene reminded him of when Claude had first woken up, but it surely couldn’t be comfortable out there in the elements. It took a few seconds of quick thinking and the kindness of his heart before he finally decided to open his mouth.

“It can’t be enjoyable out there. Come inside,” Claude heard the fatigue in his voice when he spoke, and he knew he had to sleep soon. If Dimitri refused his hand, he wouldn’t fight it as he may have done any other time. He didn’t have the energy to.

Dimitri didn’t move from his spot, and the crippled man inside the tent gave up on the matter completely. As a host, he had attempted to make his guest more at home, and he’d been quickly denied without a second thought.

Until the tent opened up and the prince stalked inside with a quick glance towards his new ally. They didn’t exchange words, but Dimitri sat in the chair beside Claude’s bed—his eyes closing almost instantly to avoid the interaction. Claude eyed him for a few more seconds before a small smirk crawled to his face, and he finally settled down.

He didn’t want to admit it, but having the company made the night a little more bearable.


	4. Arguments to the Tune of Feasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Claude's last day confined to his bed, and he couldn't be more restless to be on his feet. He's finally going to be the leader that the Alliance need him to be with a deranged killing machine by his side. That is until things finally take a turn for the worse after a serene week of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! This is the last chapter with Claude in his dingy tent all the time! I wrote this chapter with that on my mind the entire time. I can finally try my hand at writing other background words besides "tent." I'm not sure if you guys have noticed yet, but I like messing with Claude a little too much.

Claude hadn’t considered what seeing the killer in his room might do to any unsuspecting visitors, but he found out fairly quickly as soon as the night transitioned to dawn, and the chatter outside became more apparent as they approached the rumored beast of Fódlan. 

The first scream was easy to catch before it developed. Claude had gotten a bad feeling in the early morning, and when he’d opened his eyes, Marianne stood by the entrance with her hand by her mouth and her body shaking rapidly. It had taken a few seconds for him to process what she could have been ready to scream at, but once he did, he quickly calmed her down.

It would have been easy to allow him to wake up and for Claude to just return to sleep, but the way that Dimitri clung to his slumber like an infant cherished to its pacifier worried the leader. When Marianne dealt with Claude’s wounds and ran out the tent in a petrified dash, he knew he was crossing borders with the way he eyed for a few moments too long at his shut eyes. There were obvious bags visible in the broad daylight that he’d always failed to notice before.

Something told Claude that the prince needed the rest more than anyone else in the camp.

That didn’t last though when Hilda got word of a guest in the tent. When she did finally make her way over there to their location, Claude has finally gotten to a point in his morning cycle where he would fade back to sleep.

Hilda burst inside with her mouth wide open and her eyes locked on Marianne’s disobedient patient. The commotion opened the eyes of Dimitri if even for a second, and it was clear that the man wasn’t used to so much action at that time of day. The girl’ paused before she exploded into a fiery rant, and her eyes wandered straight to their guest.

Claude couldn’t stop her scream.

Dimitri now fully opened his eyes—an annoyed stare plagued his features as the creases around his mouth deepened into a firm frown. Claude removed his gaze to try and play off his curiosity as fast as he could, and to his knowledge, Dimitri hadn’t taken a single glance in his direction yet. Hilda realized her fatal mistake, and she mumbled a quick apology before switching back to the tactician to give him a wary scowl. She departed the tent as quickly as she had burst in, and he found himself letting out a small chuckle at her careless behavior. He would probably be hearing her rant later in the day.

When Claude looked back to Dimitri, the man had seemed to take an interest in eyeballing his face; the expression he wore made it seem like he wanted to say something but was fighting against it. It wasn’t any easier trying to read him in the sunlight, but it was better seeing his ally rather than have said ally under the constant supervision of shadows. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he was speaking honestly. A part of him had expected Dimitri to have fled while he slept to return to his solitude. The thought that the prince would stay grounded for the rest of the night hadn’t truly crossed his mind until the very thing occurred before his very eyes. “Any reason for you deciding to spend your night with me, or do you and I finally agree on something? You have to admit it’s better sleeping in this dingy tent than out there.”

“If I hadn’t accompanied you, I fear that your whining would just increase,” Rude and wrong, but correcting the statement would be futile. The soft chatter of soldiers floated into the tent, and their time seemed to be close to cutting short. With both of them awake, there was no reason for the blonde to stay, but when he did not attempt to move, Claude knew he was smiling before he could stop himself.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to stay, my friend,” They made eye contact for a few seconds after the sentiment, but it was quickly broken out of resentment from Dimitri. The comment must have made him uncomfortable by the sullen look he gained in his eye, and the leader grew to regret what he’d said.

Having the company greatly improved any bad mood he could have possibly had. Dimitri wasn’t a talker, and he didn’t bring any positive input to the table, but the constant presence by Claude’s side heightened his senses. Topics seemed to flow as easily as they ended, and the constant pondering of what to say next became a sort of game.

With the added presence, all forms of guests he’d been attracting the past few days seemed to vanish into thin air. Before, the thought of being alone for so long would have been unsettling and unbearably boring, and the idea of being left in the same room as the brooding man was undesirable at best.

But now he wasn’t so sure if the feelings associated with his savior were as negative as before. After all, the ride on the wyvern had been plenty insightful on their relationship, and anyone could tell that something had changed. No one could quite pinpoint the disturbance, but it was as if a barrier had been lifted between the duo, and a passerby might even hear the quiet sounds of laughter from a dry joke emit from the tent.

The laugh was never from Dimitri to Claude’s dismay, but he could only hope the man enjoyed himself as much as he did. If it was truly a bother being around, Dimitri could easily leave right through the entrance, so Claude must’ve been doing something right.

“I can’t believe you actually like him around, Leader Man. He hasn’t left this stupid tent in days. Doesn’t he freak you out?” Hilda asked him one day. 

It took everything in him not to take a peek at the fast asleep Dimitri on the floor, but he didn’t look at Hilda either. She was studying him as closely as possible—trying to notice any sort of falter among the shaded expression he wore.

“Of course not. You should invite him to tea, Hilda. I’m sure he’ll be happy to introduce you to his lance,” Her face lost color instantly, and her mouth twisted to show her hesitation to the suggestion. He chuckled at that before continuing to move the chess piece they played on. “I have to admit, he’s much better company than you.”

Hilda left immediately at the insult with her nose high in the air and tears threatening to fall from her eyes in a jovial manner. The laugh that arose from his lips could have swayed the Goddess herself, but no one awake was there to witness it in time.

Time passed quicker than usual, and Marianne had begun to ease Claude from his bed as his release date edged closer. It was a daily visit for short periods, but they wore his stamina out to the point of sheer exhaustion. The first day had been a complete surprise, and the shy female had come dressed in light cloths to accommodate for the sweltering day. The boys within the tent had even taken it upon themselves to strip their bodies of their coats (or in Claude’s sake, the silks he brandished on his shoulder).

She’d come in quietly with a small notebook clutched between her fingers as if she was heading into a death trap, and the welcome she received from Dimitri might as well have been suicide for her. It wasn’t hostile in any sense as he too had become accustomed to the presence of Claude’s friends regularly entering, but it wasn’t overly friendly. She earned herself a stiff nod that would be normal under any other circumstances, but the low esteem she held herself to mixed terribly with the gesture.

From that day on, any contact between the two had dwindled, and her visits had become stricter and shorter. Marianne arrived to do the regular: check his pulse, redirect the blood flow to focus on the revival of his legs, record any abnormal changes, and wean him back to walking.

The last part wasn’t as easy as it sounded. She hadn’t been wrong all those weeks prior when she informed him of his ignorance of how damaged he really was. Walking had always been second nature to Claude, but sprawled on the floor with cuts on his legs from the rocks made him realize how much he’d taken it for granted. There were times where he jokingly complained about just giving up and riding his wyvern for the rest of his life, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

With the success of Derdriu, the capitol had grown more lively since his injury, and nobles poured into the city every day. The demand to see the tactician skyrocketed and the only thing keeping them at bay was the threat of coming face to face with his new “dog” and the constant reminder that he was confined to his bed. Had it not been for that, the entire tent would have collapsed with the weight of requests that awaited him.

Even though his friends had taken great care to assure that he wouldn’t be seen by the public just yet, he knew holding them off would soon be futile. Expecting them to stay off his back was childish. They had a war to win, and he was the head of it all with Dimitri not being in the right state of mind to make rational decisions. He couldn’t lead a resistance falling flat on his face.

This was just another obstacle in the path to his dream.

So each time he fell, Claude forced himself to rise again. Each time he gained a new bruise, he waved it off and assured his constituents that he was fine. Claude could do this. He could do anything he put his mind to.

Dimitri of course never took much interest in these routinely checks—often finding his attention on something in his teeth or off to the distance. With the way he moved, it was as if he saw something in the open air, but whenever anyone turned to see what he could be staring at with such fear in his eyes, they found nothing. It was as if he was staring at a ghost.

There were times in the night when Dimitri happened to step outside the tent, leaving Claude by himself. Only a few of these minutes could he remember, but sometimes he could hear a small cry or an angry shout. Whatever it was, Dimitri was the source of it.

Oh, the things he would do to get a chance to be inside the man’s head.

On his last day in bed, Marianne had been accompanied by a flustered Lysithea who was obviously bothered with the presence of Dimitri. She fumbled with her dress when she entered, and Dimitri simply watched her from his corner of the room; the look on his face was unreadable as usual. Marianne had become more indifferent to the brooding, but she still fidgeted upon emerging from the entrance as if that day would be the day he snapped.

“Can you please walk towards me, Claude?” Marianne’s voice sung like a melody to his ears, and it always affected him when she rarely spoke. She was such a tender, fragile person to be around as if any misplaced word could shatter her in an instance.

“You look as lovely as ever today, Marianne.”

“Don’t patronize her, Claude! Listen to what she said,” Lysithea immediately raised her voice despite her unease, and he knew he was laughing before the noise even came from his mouth.

It was a tense cycle with his release a mere day away, and his nerves were on alert. He couldn’t delay his progress anymore. Today had to be the day he walked again. 

Claude pushed his happiness to the side to try and focus on what mattered no matter how badly he desperately didn’t want to do this. Marianne held her arms out from the other side of the room to initiate the procedure for what felt like the hundredth time, and he took the first step.

The stabbing feeling that coursed through the foot had come a long way from his private nights the previous week. It had been reduced to a small beating beneath the heels—almost like a dying heartbeat that struggled to stay alive. Another step.

Lysithea eyeballed the actions with little sighs whenever it seemed like the man faltered in his walk. She was perched on his bed like a curled up child, and every few seconds her eyes happened to drift to the other guest besides the two females. 

Dimitri watched Claude. Unlike when the girls had walked in, his face had somewhat tightened with every advance taken, and someone could mistake the expression as someone who was worried about him.

After his halfway point, Claude stumbled to the ground after he took a wrong calculation on a rock. His faithful nurse gasped, put her hands to her sides, and allowed herself to ease closer to help him up, but he raised his hand to stop further action. 

He could do this.

Claude regained his posture despite having been hunched over in pain a few seconds prior. The pain was nothing to what he’d been through his entire life. What would the people of his origin country think if they were to find out that their very own prince had been defeated by a simple pebble? Would they really respect him if they learned that he’d fallen from one of their most prized animals in combat and been unable to revive himself?

He wouldn’t even be let back in through the gates. They would rip him apart until all that remained was the heart he held between his conscience. It was the only thing keeping him grounded, and it would be the only thing they would leave behind.

That was his motivation when he took another step. That was his sole encouragement as the weight of his position truly dawned upon him; the pain was now a passing emotion.

“Claude.”

His head snapped upwards, and Marianne was there in front of him with her arms held out in greeting. It took a few seconds for his mind to truly process his success, but when it did, Claude may have been the most relieved man to walk Fodlan’s territory. He engulfed his blue-haired friend in a tight embrace, and the small doe honed her grip on him as well.

It wasn’t much to anyone else, but it was the first time Claude had successfully closed the distance between himself and his instructor. It was the first time he’d collectively finished a session without being forced to forfeit, and it was the first time he hadn’t needed an extra hand to guide him along in weeks. This feeling of independence soared through his veins for what felt like the first time in years, and his happiness leaked from his body to the other participants in the room whether they liked it or not.

Lysithea could have sworn that Dimitri’s eye even widened at the achievement, but the look was gone when she blinked twice. 

They proceeded to redo the exercise over and over until there was a point where Claude even did a little sprint towards the girl. As expected, it ended in him making friends with the dirty ground underneath him, but the mood had been so drastically changed that not even Lysithea commented on his childish behavior. Deep down, she was as relieved as anyone else was. 

They celebrated by calling the rest of his friends into the hut for a shared dining experience. While it wasn’t a grand feast, it was the one night where they were all available at once despite their numerous duties, and the parade congratulated him on his accomplishment. Raphael no longer hesitated to beat his back with normal force, and Leonie took pride among herself when she took him up on an arm-wrestling tournament which he sourly lost after Lorenz “accidentally” poured his tea into his lap. 

Dimitri tried to stick around in his corner while they partied in the confines of the tent, but he bluntly exited whenever he caught Ignatz peeking behind a blank canvas as if he was trying to sketch the prince. Claude never expected him to stay considering the amount of interaction going on, but he had to admit it was weird seeing Dimitri leave the space after occupying it for so long. 

“I bet you’re excited to be back on your feet by tomorrow. The Alliance conferences aren’t the same without you there, Claude,” Leonie who had recently become smitten with attending the meetings as a representative of the common folk commented on his absence. She had never even seen him in action, but the stories and rumors from fellow members must have caught her attention. “They’re so restless. I see why you hate them so much.”

“Leonie, I doubt Claude is excited to return to the war,” Ignatz tried butting in, but Hilda let out a hearty scoff at that.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Claude has been itching to get back in the action, haven’t you? You’ve always been one for debates,” She nudged his shoulder as he brought a cup of some sort of wine to the outskirts of his lips. Before he took his sip, he winked at her in compliance with her jab, and a sea of laughter ensued. 

“You know me so well, Hilda. I can’t wait to see Lorenz’s smiling face every morning,” To that, his school rival turned a shade of pink and corrected the cuffs of his outfit to try and regain himself at the tease. 

“You’ll be lucky to see a smile with that attitude. Please silence yourself if your input is really that corrupt after your weeks in bed. Perhaps you aren’t fit to lead the Alliance if you find it funny to joke in such trying times?”

“My mistake, my friend. I suppose the man who spends his hours writing poetry in his estate would be a much better pick for the position, am I correct?” The group howled once more, and Lorenz settled back down into his makeshift seat.

When they left, Dimitri didn’t return. It was foolish worrying about his guest: he was a perfectly capable war machine that massacred hundreds in his wake, but Claude couldn’t help himself. To try and distract himself, he attempted to sleep. The next day would be a change of pace with his recovery. The childish treatment would no longer be in effect, and everyone would finally be able to lay eyes on him. He could no longer be so open as he’d been given the chance to do in the safety of the infirmary. Things were going to change. Claude was going to have to change.

Sleep didn’t come easy though. It was as if something was clawing at the leader’s mind—trying to pry open an entrance to get to him. Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was something else, but whatever it was, Claude wished no part in it.

When Dimitri finally did stride back in, Claude hadn’t been asleep for longer than ten minutes at max since his friends had left hours before. 

The prince looked disheveled without his large coat, and he’d stripped himself of his armor after Claude’s committed pestering after a particularly sweltering day. He was now a man of a spare, rugged blouse that had one two many dirt stains, and the injuries from the last battle were much more apparent without the shield hiding them. Claude tried not to stare for too long at the untreated scars no matter how much they made Dimitri flinch, but he sometimes couldn’t help it with them right in his face.

He looked troubled when he entered as if he’d just exited a heated debate between himself and someone else, but Claude highly doubted Dimitri had argued with someone in the Alliance in his current mindset. Still, he couldn’t shake the expression from his mind.

“Would you look at that? Our lovely prince has decided to return from his night out. Did you enjoy you—what are you doing?” Dimitri had equipped himself with his large cloak once more, and he was in the process of redressing himself in the discarded armor by the floor. He didn’t speak when Claude questioned his actions, but he was instead silently muttering incomprehensible phrases to himself as if the words spoken to him hadn’t truly reached his ears. “Dimitri?”

The man finished plating his chest, and he frantically searched for his weapon which sat by the nook he’d grown to inhabit. With the way he walked, he seemed set out on a mission, and Claude would usually allow him to just leave, but something was off. Something wasn’t right with the departing gaze he settled on the area or the frantic way his hands traced along his weapon as if it would fly away if he didn’t hold it tightly.

He couldn’t be... no.

Before Dimitri had the chance to slip back behind the curtains, Claude jumped upwards and settled on grabbing hold of his bicep. Dimitri didn’t pay him a second glance when he attempted to shove the boy off, but Claude didn’t budge—he tried to process what could have possibly caused such a reaction.

“Dimitri, Calm down!” Claude knew he was no match for the man in brute strength alone, but that didn’t stop him from exerting all of his force into bringing his ally back inside. When the blonde refused to even offer a grunt in reply, Claude became desperate.

He stumbled to his feet—temporarily letting go of the brute—and he leaped in front of the man to block his path more effectively. 

“Dimitri!”

That was enough to take him back, and Claude gained the advantage he urgently needed. With as much strength as he could muster, Claude shoved him back into the tent and onto the floor—the impact kicked the breath from his lungs.

Below him was Dimitri who’s eye was open in shock that he’d been taken down in such a fashion. Whatever daze that had overtaken his senses departed long enough for him to finally notice his predicament.

“Move Claude,” it was a familiar phrase that they had shared at Gronder, and the memory of the battle flashed in his mind as if it was yesterday. 

“Care to explain why you’re storming out of here like someone just came to you and offered a solution to the war?” Claude regained his lost breath to speak despite its winded tone. He paused for a second to inhale, “If that did happen, I would completely understand your excitement, but at least allow me to accompany you.”

Dimitri could have easily removed Claude from on top of him without blinking an eye, but instead, he looked into his eyes as if to amuse the idea that Claude had any control over him at all.

“This is not the time for your jokes, Claude. Where I am going is somewhere you can not follow,” it was a strained message, but possible places raced through his mind. There weren’t many locations Claude didn’t have the pleasure of accessing. The Holy Tomb was one of them being under Cyril’s close watch, and Lysithea’s room could probably count as another off-limits area. Still, that stuff was trivial and not worth Dimitri’s time in the slightest. Where could he possibly be trying to go—

“You’re heading to Enbarr?” The voice that came from his throat sounded nothing like his own. It was small and quiet—almost like a whisper. Dimitri’s eye had now focused on something past Claude to try and avoid the direct contact, but his silence only confirmed the statement. “Dimitri you can’t. You’ll be killed before you even make it.”

“That is none of your concern.”

“I think it is my concern, actually. Do you forget that I owe you my life? I can’t just let you go fully knowing the fate that awaits you,” Claude was growing weary of their position, but he feared that moving would just cause Dimitri to take advantage and make a dash towards the exit.

“You do not owe your life to a monster such as myself. Whatever dues you feel obligated to fulfill do not have anything to do with me,” whatever Dimitri was looking at behind Claude must have been a hideous show because the look that he chose after the statement was one of a bitter horror; his eye closed to try and block it out. “I must do this.”

“Dimitri you have to listen to me. No one is telling you to do this but yourself,” but the second the words left his mouth, Dimitri had finally seemed to have enough of the affair, and he used Claude’s weakness against him. With a single swipe at his legs, the Alliance leader and the prince switched places—Dimitri now taking his position to hold Claude down.

The sight was terrifying, to say the least. Every rational emotion, any sincerity in him, and all forms of compassion had exited in the small span of seconds it had taken to switch positions, and Claude finally understood why everyone seemed to be so terrified of Dimitri. Underneath him like this revealed a monster behind his movements, and it was petrifying. His eye was wide with a burning fire behind them, and the hands that had aided Claude in the passing days now pressed against his chest to force him into the ground. 

“You couldn’t understand,” the noise the prince made brought chills to Claude’s back, and he forced himself to stay as calm as possible despite the pure feeling of terror that ran through his body. “You don’t hear them.”

“Hear who?” Dimitri pressed harder on his chest to shut the man up, but he made sure to leave enough pressure to allow him to still breathe. It had never been his intention to kill the leader. Not even at Gronder had the thought of killing Claude truly crossed his mind unless the leader planned on getting in his path.

“They call to me, and as their vessel, I must submit myself,” he spoke slowly to make sure Claude heard his every word, “If you so claim to have a debt to me, surely you can understand. The dead must have their tribute.”

When Claude had wanted a way into Dimitri’s head, he hadn’t expected it to come in the form of whatever this was. This would have been a much nicer discussion if they weren’t arguing over the very fate of the future king himself that the man in question seemed to be willing to discard so easily.

But that was the situation now, and now he had to navigate through it.

“I don’t understand, Dimitri,” the answer didn’t strike any sort of explanation, and by the silence that followed shortly after, there seemed to be no explanation on its way. “Dimitri, look at me.”

Everything seemed to finally make sense now. All of the absent stares into the distance at things unknown to anyone else, all of the restless night of talking to things that weren’t there, and the constant unrest felt complete with the information. Dimitri hadn’t been doing it all for show of course, but Claude connected the dots as quickly as he could in the short period.

Dimitri was talking to the dead—or some rendition of them he’d distorted in his head. The arguing that seemed to have grown more apparent hadn’t been a secret friend of his; it had been his conscious.

How was he supposed to convince a man so broken that he was seeing things to stay behind? Was there even a way to force him to stay? Was the only outcome of their budding friendship the gruesome beheading of one of them after a stupid mistake? 

How was he—a simple stranger to the prince—supposed to make a man who lived for the dead somehow change his perspective and stay for the living?

“Dimitri listen to me,” Despite the discomfort of the situation, Claude forced his voice to even out to hide his growing worry. Dimitri grunted in response. “I may not understand you. I may never be able to understand you, but I can’t let you die.”

“Why not? What does keeping me around do to benefit you? I have heard the whispers. I have seen through your lies. A beast such as myself has no place among those you call your friends,” Dimitri spat on the ground beside Claude’s head as if the words burned his tongue.

Even Claude couldn’t explain why he felt so obligated to keep him alive. It wasn’t as if they’d contacted one another in the time after Garreg Mach, and the time spent together on the battlefield shouldn’t have been enough to sway his opinion so drastically.

People called him a fool in passing. He had been weak for sacrificing his entire resistance on the chance of a deluded man coming to his aide, but he’d done it hadn’t he? Despite all of the odds pushing him in the opposite direction, Dimitri had abandoned his friends to save Derdriu—to save him. Could such a feat be forgotten so easily?

“Because you’re my friend, Dimitri,” the words paused the movements of the broad above him, and Claude recognized the look of astonishment as the same one he’d given him at Gronder.

“I am not. Do not confuse our relations of that which you shared with the boy five years ago. I am a monster.”

“Maybe you are, but that monster saved me from death. If it wasn’t for you, I would be five feet under right now,” his voice lowered to a murmur trying to decide what to say next. “We’ve all done things we regret, my friend. You are still a good man, and I’m not too keen on letting good men die.”

He was stunned. It was as if he’d slapped Dimitri across the face with enough force to kill him with the way he gawked upon Claude’s expression. With the way his eye searched his face, he desperately tried to search for any hint that maybe Claude was pulling yet another scheme—a truly evil ending to their partnership, but nothing was hiding under the surface. There was no malicious intent or a knife in his back. There was just Claude, and Claude was...

“If you truly have to fulfill whatever debt you’ve become inclined to complete to the ghosts in your head, then I’m asking you to let me walk beside you. I’ll give you safe passage to the emperor herself if that’s what it comes to, but I can’t allow you to—“ Dimitri lifted himself off of Claude instantly as if touching him brought him great discomfort. Claude cut himself off to try and stand, but the look Dimitri gave him was one with a masked intent.

Whatever else he had planned to say died in his throat as he watched Dimitri rush out the tent to leave. This time he didn’t rise to stop him. He’d said all he could in the situation, and the prince had chosen his fate.

How could a day so perfect become so tainted so quickly? Claude felt an unfamiliar feeling bloom in his chest that he could only pinpoint as loss, and he situated himself back into a standing position. What would he tell everyone when they realized his absence? A few of them would probably cheer, but the few who had truly seen this as an advantage would grow to distrust him. 

Could he have said something else? Something more reasonable?

Worrying over what could have been was pointless now. There was nothing that could have been done for a man that didn’t want to be saved, and that point had been proven. Claude just had to live with it. He always had to live with it.

That didn’t stop him from laying in his bed long after Dimitri had left with a frown on his face. The argument kept playing in his head like a broken record: the crazed look in his eyes, the power struggle for dominance, and Dimitri’s heart-stricken stare that left Claude speechless for the first time in his life. 

He’d gained access to Dimitri’s head and lost it in the same sitting. 

Claude shut his eyes as tight as possible to prevent his mind from wandering to an even darker place than it already had. He was upset, but he now had a war to win. With Dimitri by his side or not, he had a nation depending on him, and he couldn’t let them down just because the carcass of a man he once knew gave his life away. Dimitri made his choice.

So why did the sinking feeling in his gut not go away?

Claude finally grudgingly allowed himself a moment of rest, his anxiety from the event died down. The people outside his tent would never know of what transpired that night, and maybe he could hide his discord and fabricate the lie that Dimitri had escaped into the night without his knowledge. He could try and remove the fault from his own faulty and instead try to pass it off as a personal decision.

Alliance first; feelings second. That was his motto before Dimitri, and it had to be his motto after him. Everything would work out if he put enough effort into it. Everything would be fine. When he roused in the dawn, he would be able to figure it out with a sounder mind.

Dimitri was back by the morning light


	5. Planning In The Midst of Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Claude finally out of his bed and on his feet, the stress of the war has finally crashed back into him. With the state of everyone's minds in disarray over his absence, no one can fully agree on the next plan of action. Claude comes to them with scraps of a turned down plan only to be refuted to no end. In his lowest point, he finds the answers he's looking for in the most unlikely person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that this chapter was written to help cope with a lot of the stress taking place in my life right now, but I can only hope that everything is as accurate as possible. I'm in the process of heavily changing the story for later chapters to flow nicer, so I hope to have that figured out before I reach that point. Please enjoy!

“You just intend to walk up to Fort Merceus without a plan? Surely you can’t be in your right mind,” a man stood from his seat at the table with his nose flared and his eyes wide. The tension of the room focused on his wild movements, and a few of the nobles seemed ready to join him in the standing action. Did they believe that rising from their positions intimidate their leader enough for him to see reason? “It’s one of the most heavily guarded forts in Fódlan. The second our troops march in there, we’ll be killed on sight.”

“Do you have another suggestion, my friend?” Claude opened his eyes to see a flock of doubt swarm his vision, and a part of him wished he’d kept them closed. “With Arundel down, I’m sure the emperor is scrambling for recovery at the moment. This is her weakest point. Should we not take advantage of the opportunity given to us?” Half of the room nodded their heads in agreement, but the other half stayed unmoving like freshly carved statues without an inch of life shining within them.

A scoff emerged from the chair across from him, and he turned his body to face the same man he’d shared drinks with a few nights before who now stood before him in doubt. Lorenz had his arms crossed across his chest, and the heat of the room took its toll on his body through the sweat threatening to spill on his forehead.

Claude had expected Lorenz to trust him for once in his life, but it seemed that was asking too much of the nobleman. He understood it well though. Lorenz was smart, and smart men didn’t trust their friends with no hesitation when so much was at stake. He had to admit that he had always been the same despite that admittance meaning they would share something in common.

“I have to disagree. Our first priority should be restoring peace to the commonwealth we already inhabit. It would be easier to enact your plan once we recoup,” he had a point, but his point was faulty. “It would also be a good idea to try and earn the Kingdom’s favor would it not? With their forces and our own collectively laying siege on the fort, it’ll be an easy victory.”

“I like your plan, but it’s irrational. Should we wait as long as you’re expecting us to hold off on storming that base, she would have already refortified it knowing that it was our next stop,” Edelgard was a brilliant woman—possibly even matching Claude in her excellence. She wouldn’t simply keep her defenses down for long if she could help it, and with Fort Merceus being one of her last shots, she wouldn’t allow it to be taken so easily. “The Kingdom has also been null towards any attempt to connect with us. I fear that they are still under Imperial control. There is a resistance group lead by Lord Fraldarius in the outskirts of the capital, but I doubt that they will be ready to aide us with problems of their own to deal with.”

“Why don’t we use your ‘guest’ as bait then?” A noble shot up from their seat as well, and Claude whipped his head towards the voice. A feeling of rage bubbled up in his chest at the jeer, but he refused to allow it to show itself on his face, and he instead focused on his twiddling thumbs.

“No.”

“No? This entire council meeting you have been calling our other plans futile, but now all you have to say is ‘no?’ I mean no disrespect when I say this, but you must be out of your mind,” Almost everyone at the table solemnly nodded their heads at the accusation, and Claude realized that it was the wrong thing to say in the situation. He shielded his eyes from the attention and took care to bite his lip at the taunt. “We wouldn’t kill him. Harming him enough to solidify our threat would be fine, and then we could hand him off to either the rebels or the army led by Lady Cornelia who would gladly take him from our hands. I’ve seen the way she looks, and she looks like a woman carving her future and said future doesn’t include the emperor.”

“I’m afraid to tell you, but I will not be harming our guest under any circumstances. You host tea parties all the time, don't you? Surely you don’t sell your partygoers off to the nearest enemy?” A few laughs emerged, and the standing noble found his face burning a deep red.

“He’s not wrong, Claude...”

The voice beside him finally spoke, and Claude felt a small hand lightly smooth over his outfit. He didn’t dare look at her, but Hilda stared at him with her bright pink eyes like he was the sole thing keeping her for lashing out.

He couldn’t believe she was agreeing with them. He couldn’t just hand Dimitri over like bait. He couldn’t just go against everything he’d built in their time together.

“So we give him away, and then what? We earn ourselves a negative presence for torturing their future king, and they gladly work with us?”

“It would only be for the wa—“

“But after the war?” He didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth again before Claude fired back. These nobles only thought short term, but it wasn’t hard to realize that in the long run, they’d be making enemies with the very people they couldn’t afford to fight with. Would the prince be able to forgive Claude if he betrayed the small amount of trust they shared? “They are not fools. After the war with the Empire has passed, I have no doubt in my mind that they will have already devised a plan to overthrow the Alliance for our scrambled rule. It will be another war on your hands,”

“So instead of gathering together, we attack the fort with everything our soldiers can provide, and then what? Strolling straight in would do us no good, Claude. You cant allow whatever relationship you have formed with the king to blind your senses. You’re a brilliant tactician.”

“And as a brilliant tactician and the leader of House Riegan, I am begging you to give me the resources I need. Have my schemes ever failed you?”

“Your last stunt almost got you killed and would have plunged the Alliance into a competitive scramble for power,” Lorenz finally spoke again, but this time, the hint of a softened man broke through. It was the exact thing Claude needed in the debate, but the statement itself damaged his argument.

“But I didn’t, and I won’t this time. I wouldn’t throw our people into a battle that I wasn’t sure we could win,” there was a break in his voice when he spoke, and he desperately tried to cover it up with one of his crafty smirks.

There was a silence that fell upon the room as if no one knew what to say to try and rebuttal him. He’d left them speechless for once in their trivial lives, but he couldn’t celebrate his victory in such a dense room full of people that seemed to act as if expressing humor was the most impossible thing they could ever try to do.

“I trust the boy,” Judith who hadn’t said a word the entire meeting was quick to join his side, and a strong sense of loyalty went unspoken between their locked gazes. A few of the lesser lords surrounding her end of the table nodded in agreement just to be in her grace, but the remainder of the table didn’t speak.

Maybe it would be best to think it over throughout the day because sitting at a stalemate was leading them in the opposite direction that they desired, so the group did exactly that. Claude disbanded the meeting and asked that the remaining participants get back to him as soon as they possibly could. It wasn’t as if they had time to frolic the capitol.

They had two weeks until Claude had planned the attack on Fort Merceus, but they hadn’t even settled on a definite plan of action. With so many people against him, he couldn’t think straight enough to try and come up with one of his back door schemes, and now he had nobles accusing him of letting his heart rule his head.

They didn’t understand that if he didn’t do exactly that, a lot more of them wouldn’t be alive to refute his decisions. 

Claude wasn’t like Edelgard in that aspect despite their similar ideals. She was willing to do anything to see her goals come to light, but he was softer in that regard. No matter how badly he fought or weighed his options, the senseless sacrifices of war never appeased him. Perhaps it was a poor choice as the leading commander of the opposing side to have such a sweet soul, but he couldn’t help himself from pulling forces back into a retreat when things got too tough, and he was fully willing to give himself up to save the lives of the entire Alliance if it came down to it.

Claude exited the building with a sullen look on his face. It was afternoon, and the sky was painted vivid oranges and yellows that resembled Ignatz’s various paintings. The air that entered his lungs traveled from the pier where traveling merchants arrived to set up shop in a place full of open mouths and scavenging hands that would soon be on the front lines. Derdriu was hungry—hungry for action.

Hilda attempted to come to his side, but he simply waved her away with a smile and stalked off to the side where he would be better left alone than in her presence. He wasn’t one to hold grudges like some type of petty school girl, but he couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal that burned his skin whenever he spared a glance her way. He would be fine by the morning, but right now he didn’t think he could take it.

Maybe in bed had Claude begged to return to the mellow life of the constant debating, but he hadn’t expected them to fire back at him so heavily. His absence had left them in a state of disarray it seemed, and after two weeks of being left alone, he wasn’t used to the back and forth chatter the fights brought him.

When a hand wrapped its way around his arm, he didn’t even realize until it tugged him back from his position. It was a startle at first, but the face he was met with allowed him to relax once more.

Dimitri looked at him with his singular eye, and Claude greeted him respectively despite the sour mood he had been thrust into. When Dimitri didn’t let go of his arm, he began to search his face for what could be wrong.

“I’m glad that you’re so excited to see me, but people will talk if they see you holding me like a lost child,” it was a joke, but Dimitri seemed to not even hear it as he tugged Claude around. He’d gotten out of the habit of rudely picking him up without asking and had instead reduced himself to lazily leading Claude along. He wasn’t putting his entire force into it, but it was just enough to give him a hard time. “You would think that after three weeks of talking to me, you would at least smile.”

“Come with me,” Dimitri motioned him once more, and Claude hesitantly obliged.

When the prince had come back after his dramatic exit a few days prior, the Alliance leader had been smitten with himself. Never had things worked out so well for him than when Dimitri had decided to pity him and return.

Neither of them had spoken of the incident since it occurred, and Claude wasn’t sure if he should even attempt to bring it up. He was heavily curious as to why the man had returned when it was obvious that his mind begged for him to go, but the fear that Dimitri would remember and leave for good frightened away any intention to mention it. Whenever the topic became more distant, perhaps they would address it, but for now, the blind ignorance worked.

That didn’t stop Claude from wondering though.

Derdriu was bustling the longer the days dragged on. People set up in shops across the pathways stretching throughout the city with their cheap wares and, on the rare occasion, cute trinkets. The sun was low in the sky, it’s presence threatened to sink below the horizon to allow the night to rise. Despite this fore-shadowing, the citizens waved them on through the streets to lure the two men into their markets. 

Continuing past the aisle, they made their way towards a more secluded section of the town where warriors spent their hours polishing weaponry and engaging in friendly battles. The distant sounds of ecstatic shouts and unfair shots replaced the jingle of bells they had just passed.

Claude hadn’t taken much time to visit this part of the town, and he was surprised Dimitri even knew about it considering his constant presence by the Alliance leader’s side.

Dimitri was an outsider here. It was a hopeful thought that he would arrive at the capital no longer a prince but a king; maybe then he would have been happily accepted. To be a king was to be in his sound mind to lead his people, but Dimitri had stuck out like a sore thumb among others. 

The only one who truly seemed to have no bother being in his presence was, of course, Claude who had already been forced to become accustomed to his weird habits and lost look. At first, Dimitri had insisted that staying by his side was a result of making sure he didn’t fall from his wyvern again, but Claude liked to think that the prince had come to enjoy his company just as much as Claude had grown to find it fun to be in his.

The two of them finally made their way to the most remote spot of the area which seemed already inhabited for the most part. A few broken lances were scattered in the space—Claude recognized a pendant he thought to have been lost on a small table full of supplies.

“That blue-haired girl...”

“Marianne?” Claude switched his attention back to Dimitri who finally let go of his arm after the walk. “What about her?”

“She has been an annoyance in my side for weeks,” the way he spoke had improved in their time together. It no longer sounded like a bag of gravel was being consumed every time he opened his mouth, and Claude could actually understand him for the most part. “My wounds—she wishes to tend to them in preparation for the next battle.”

“I see no reason why she can’t. Marianne is great. She healed my legs as you can probably tell,” the legs that had been immobile for weeks now walked relatively without injury. There were a few times where Claude would stumble and occasionally trip, but he was always quick to jump back to his feet as if nothing happened.

“I allowed her to use one of her spells, but when it came to bandaging them to stop the bleeding,” he paused to push his shirt to his shoulder to show off one of the many scars, ”She’s too fearful of me. It seems I don’t have the best reputation to her.”

“So I’m guessing you’re asking me to do it for you? Why couldn’t you do this yourself, your princeliness? I’m sure you know how to bandage yourself just fine,” despite what seemed to be a protest, Claude was already coming closer to the supplies that were already set up on the table. It seemed that Dimitri had no intention of Claude rejecting in the first place if he’d already set everything up.

The look Dimitri gave him was one of mixed emotion: there was the usual stare of annoyance he seemed to grow to love giving him, but there was also a sigh of relief that he’d accepted in the first place.

“I would have gladly done it myself, but there are still places I cannot see,” Claude tossed the roll of spare bandages between his fingers as Dimitri came to stand beside his form. From the distance they had chosen, no one would be able to see them unless they squinted, and the tactician highly doubted that the men that resided there cared enough to try peeking.

“Sit down, Dimitri. I can’t reach you standing up,” at the order, the man quickly dropped to the floor, his eye refused to meet Claude’s at the impact. “We couldn’t have done this in my room? At least there I would have a chair to sit in while I do this.”

“I wouldn’t want to be disturbed, and it feels to me like people tend to knock every few seconds there,” he wasn’t wrong. When it came to the most popular person on-site, Claude was the highest in the list. Not only did the people he called friends knock, children also came to him for mild troubles, leaders flocked to his side to invite him to chat, and others tried to steal him from the confines of his room to engage in other activities. Because of the constant pestering, Dimitri had, of course, moved to another room in his time. “Use the crate over there as a seat if you must.”

Claude picked the box up—full of Goddess knows what—and placed it behind Dimitri. Even with him sitting down, his height was overwhelming to bask in, and it felt odd standing above him for once.

Dimitri removed his shirt easily to reveal a back scattered with various cuts and gashes. Blemishes along with bruises missed by Marianne’s precise healing were turning purple after months without care, and it only heightened his curiosity about what the prince had been doing before the battle of Gronder.

It couldn’t have been good with all of the marks etching across his skin.

He took the dressing into his palms and began to work his hands around one of the bigger wounds. The material stretched when he pulled, but it was easy to notice the poor quality of the cloth.

“You’re on edge.”

“Am I?” Claude bit down on the textile to rip it from its source before neatly pining it down in place. He began a similar process on another particularly large opening. “I didn’t even notice,” it was a quick lie. The council meeting from before still weighed heavily on his nerves. He’d been so out of practice—so desperate in front of people who weren’t afraid to rip him apart.

“Why?” Dimitri completely ignored the second statement, his head leaning to the side to get a glimpse of his healer. Under his watchful eye, Claude felt small—a child who had been caught involved in a fib by his mother.

“It’s just noble stuff regarding the upcoming attack,” his voice was breathy as he heaved his strength into leaning forward to completely cover the prince. Dimitri was silent while he did so as if waiting for him to return to his original position before asking more questions.

“We’re planning to attack? Where?”

“Well, we were—past tense. That was my plan anyway, but the others think I’m being foolish in my ways. I just thought an attack on Fort Merceus would improve our standing, but they think otherwise,” Claude knew it was rude, but he couldn’t help sighing at the end of his sentence. It would be a setback if their final decision contrasted his own, but he couldn’t argue with a majority rule no matter how much power he held.

“What do your allies propose?” A single guard seemed to finally realize the Alliance leader and the prince were together, and he poked his head closer to them to try and see what they could be doing. When Dimitri saw this, he flared his nose at the man to try and scare him off. It worked.

A small gasp came from the brute below him, and Claude apologized for tightening one of the bandages too tight. He’d been expecting the man to have been able to hold himself together better, but the occasional twisted face and flinch told him otherwise.

“You have some of them trying to sell you off to the Kingdom—“ Dimitri’s head sunk low to try and hide his shame, and Claude found himself subconsciously patting his back, “—but of course you’re under my protection now. I’m not just going to sell you away like some sort of animal. You’re my friend whether you like it or not.”

For once Dimitri didn’t express immediate protest to being aligned with Claude, and the relief that he’d gotten tired of constantly denying it brought a sliver of happiness. Instead, the man below him had simply gone quiet from any movement at all, and Claude took the opportunity to tighten one of the bandages.

“Others want to try and wait another month. They say we’re undersupplied, and it seems the entire council wants the Kingdom to ally themselves with us—some of these scars are too small for me to bandage. What do you want me to do with them?”

Dimitri didn’t move for a few seconds, and Claude feared that he’d fallen asleep like that, but the prince regained his composure and shrugged Claude off of his back.

“That is enough for now. I’m sure this will be acceptable if your friend happens to spot me again,” they both collectively cleaned the spot back to whatever sense of harmony it had before they’d arrived. “Have you gotten word from Fhirdiad?” The words were hesitant—almost regretful.

“The capitol? No. I believe it’s still in control under Lady Corncob or whatever her name is—“

“That vile woman...,” Dimitri’s voice faltered, and the twisted expression that appeared on his face reminded Claude of the glare he gained in his eye when someone mentioned Edelgard: It was raw, murderous, and something he definitely never had at the Academy. “Rodrigue was meant to launch an attack as quickly as possible. I can only wonder why he has delayed it.”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You don’t just wake up with your future prince missing and decide to storm an entire capitol by yourself with his remaining few musketeers,” They began walking back towards the exit. At such a late hour, the nobles had probably already eaten without Claude by their side, but he didn’t mind much. He wasn’t sure if he could stomach being in the same room as them anyways. “I’d like to bet that they’re searching for you. There aren't many places you could go though, so when they do find you, do you intend to follow them?”

“I will follow whatever path leads me to Edelgard.”

“That’s the spirit, your princeliness!” Claude elbowed the prince, and the brute simply kept walking along the pathway.

There was more to be said between them; however, the presence of Dimitri’s mind was somewhere else as it usually was, and Claude refrained from speaking to him. 

They traveled in and out of the streets and roads that were now dissolved of people, and shops began to shut down for the upcoming night. Lights flickered and spat before finally deciding on a settled appearance—their flames no longer lit. Only a few stores were still open at this time of night, and the food they sold would most likely be long removed of warmth: the leftovers.

Flocks of people rushed past them and beside their huddled bodies, pushing and knocking them over. No one wanted to be caught out at night and accused of some unfavorable crime during the time of high stress that fell upon the Alliance. Everyone probably knew of the discord among the lords by now, and being caught in the path of one of them wouldn’t end calmly at this time of dusk.

But Claude was hungry, so that thought hardly crossed his mind for longer than a few seconds.

Walking with legs was like he remembered, but exerting too much energy in a day left him exhausted and usually passed out for longer than he would have wanted. It was harder than usual to waltz across town pestering citizens and gathering materials. It was hard just making it from point A to point B anymore, but it wasn’t overly concerning. Marianne had warned him not to overwork himself due to some paralyzing side effects, but he had never been one to listen.

Claude took long strides to get ahead of Dimitri who was so out of it that he’d barely even noticed that his ally was taking the opposite direction of their dorms.

“Where are we going?” Dimitri was quickly at his heels again which was a place he found himself to often be ever since Claude had regained his mobility.

“Well, you don’t have to join me, but I’m heading to take part in the luxuries of food, your highness,” He knew the first statement was just him talking to thin air. The chances of Dimitri having anything better to do besides spend his dinner with Claude were slim unless the man decided to hone on his training. It would make sense considering the upcoming possibility of battle on their horizons.

Despite his offer to depart, Dimitri’s footsteps didn’t disappear or fade away. 

Claude greeted people as he went if they happened to look in his direction with a false smile settled on his face. The wind was picking up as the moon began to rise, and he was forced to quicken his pace in case all of the vendors had already closed up shop for the night.

They reached a small booth closer to the council room that Claude happened to frequent more than a sane individual could handle. The man inside happily waved to him with more excitement then someone at that time of night should have, and the grin that reached his face tugged upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“What is this?” Dimitri squinted at the dish with his eye—the expression he was making caused Claude to quietly chuckle to himself.

“I have no idea what it’s called, but it’s some mixed rice with a bunch of other ingredients that I’m not sure I want to know the name of,” Claude took a bite of his food. Surprisingly, it was still piping hot on his tongue, and the warmth engulfed his senses in a state of euphoria. It reminded him of a similar Almyra dish. “I’m pretty sure it has lamb and maybe some potatoes too. You wanna try it?” His tone was one of a teasing child as he held the utensil up to his partner’s face. Dimitri eyed the appliance for a few seconds before he took it and attempted to stomach to food.

At first, the man choked whatever bite he took back on the dirty stone they had traveled, but Claude refused to let him off easy.

“You are trying to burn me,” Dimitri’s voice was faint and small; he was still coughing up remnants of the food. Taking the open opportunity, Claude shoved another bite into the prince’s open mouth—a hearty laugh escaping his throat.

“There might be some yogurt in there too. I’m sure you don’t mind, right? Oh no, your princeliness, you have to try things three times, didn’t you know? Open wide,” but Dimitri had already stumbled away from Claude with a swat at the tease. He shuffled closer until the food was an inch from his face and whenever Dimitri extended his mouth to protest, Claude tossed the rice a third time into the opening. 

This time, Dimitri forcefully chewed the rice, and the glare he gave Claude could have moved mountains. His laughter settled as they walked.

“How did it taste?”

“I do not taste,” Dimitri muttered after finishing what was left in his mouth, his gaze still focused on the trickster. “I lost that feeling long ago.”

“But you kept jumping around like it was the worst thing you’ve ever had,” Of course he didn’t question the exact reason on the loss of something so important, but he figured that Dimitri would tell him when he was ready. Over the years, Claude had toned his techniques down to accommodate for his quieter audience: patience suddenly became key to figuring his answers out.

“As I said, you were burning me with that meal. Had I not spat it out, any taste buds that are still functional would have been set in flames,” eyeing the utensil he had given Dimitri, Claude thought about reusing it to finish the meal but instead resolved to just tipping the bowl to eat it. “How can you possibly just eat it like that? Are you not affected by the warmth?”

“I suppose, but where I come from, it’s common to just eat this kind of stuff without anything to make the experience easier for yourself,” Claude finished the bowl and placed it to the side where hopefully someone would find joy in picking it up to use.

“Where you come from?” Claude froze instantly and sucked in a breath. He hadn’t even registered his fatal mistake, and now his mind scrambled for an exit. “It is none of my business, of course.”

They continued on in silence back to their living quarters to rest for the night. The streets had now been emptied, and the moon hung high above their heads. 

“When we raid the fort, what would you be applicable to do?” Dimitri wasn’t shy to skip straight to the point, and the tactician sighed by his side. He’d been quietly hoping that they would indulge more in childish activities before he was forced to return to the war. Weeks in the tent had made Claude soft. 

“Back to politics, I suppose. To tell you the truth, my friend? For once I haven’t had the resources to plan ahead towards the battle. It is too early to make preparations at such a pivotal moment, but I should probably begin to think, shouldn’t I?”

“I have attempted that location multiple times in the past. It is impenetrable from an outsider’s perspective,” Dimitri skipped right past his attempt to lighten the mood. “I am not one for battle plans, but I will offer my aid whenever it seems fit. I happen to know of a back entrance we could go through if permitted.”

“Good thought, but we don’t have enough men for th...” Claude’s train of thought suddenly slowed down, a sudden idea coming to mind. He had been foolish—so very foolish. A smile unlike any other he’d given off tonight came to his face; it was devious and inquisitive with consideration as it sat upon his cheeks without the intention of dissipating. “Dimitri you are truly a genius.”

Dimitri looked startled at such a broad statement, and even in the darkness of the night, Claude could see his expression clear as day. The prince had stopped walking, his eyes once again searching Claude for any sense of delusion, but a part of him knew that the man was speaking his mind.

After a few fleeting seconds, they continued walking without mention of the exclamation, and truthfully, the reaction he’d received made Claude suddenly feel embarrassed that he’d even said it at all. 

“Anyways, we have to get back to my room. I have a lot of scheming to do if I want to make this work, and standing in the middle of a deserted street isn’t doing either one of us any good,” They sped up their pace at the comment, and the giddy spirit inside of him burned his soul.

Now he just needed the nobles to accept his plan.

But turning around the corner and staring at his dorms, Claude realized that he didn’t even have to fret about that. Judith stood tall beside his room with her refreshing companionship. Usually, her being there would signal a new update in a plan he’d made or to escort him to the council meetings, a chance for them to catch up.

When she noticed them approaching, she hoisted her body into a straighter position for a more proper appearance, and her eyes simply grazed over his company. Judith had never been truly afraid of the man in question, but she didn’t take it upon herself to make friends with him either. She was neutral in the situation as she’d always been about things along this frontier.

“I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes for you, Boy.”

“Don’t call me boy, and I’m sorry. I was doing something very important,” the look she gave him suggested that he’d been doing the opposite, but Claude refused to indulge in her teasing mind games. “What could you possibly want at this hour? The prince and I need our shut-eye after all.”

“Hush. You and your little friend can get your beauty sleep the second I leave. I just came to leave a message,” She was lively despite the time of day, and Claude envied that. He was growing exhausted by just standing by his door.

In a swift movement to hide her words from Dimitri, Judith hunched by Claude’s ear before he even realized what was happening; Her tone hushed to a mere whisper.

“They’ve decided to follow you, Leader. Don’t lose this chance,” and just like that Judith was walking away with her arms behind her head. Dimitri watched her go without an emotion on his face, but Claude was quite the opposite. His pure joy was too much to compress, and the relief of the nobles yet again entrusting him with command washed over him.

He finally opened the door to his small dorm to which Dimitri simply nodded his goodbye and treaded further in the preceded direction to his own room. Claude bounced himself into the singular chair by his desk, and the smile present on his face outshone the dull commodities in front of him.

He had a plan to forge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually have end notes, but I just want to tell everyone reading to stay safe! I may not respond to comments out of my shy nature, but I truly care about every single person that reads my fic, and I would be devastated if something were to happen to you.


	6. First Time For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fort Merceus: it's on everyone's minds. The threat of the Empire crushing their attempt looms over the Master Tactician's mind as Claude makes his final preparations for battle. However, he soon finds out that Dimitri is mad. He's not just mad at anyone though. The prince is mad at Claude, and he can't help but wonder why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter all over the place! I started it immediately after my last one, but in the process I got terribly sick. I've been sick for the past 6 days with no signs of getting better, but bits and pieces of this were written while I was coughing up a storm. It's a little shorter than usual, and I ended up adding on a lot in my editing process to try and fluff it up a bit. I hope you all enjoy! I really appreciate your comments and all the support I receive even if I never reply to said comments. They're really helping me through my sickness <3

Dimitri had never been one to get mad during their Academy days. Annoyed? Definitely, but Claude had always understood that the boy had been too polite to truly lash out at anyone. If someone misplaced his lance, he would simply guide them to helping him find it with his sweet charm. If someone spilled a drink on his cape, he kindly assured them that he was fine before asking them for help to wash it. It was never on purpose or vindictive. Whoever had fallen head over heels with affection for him would help without fail—who wouldn’t want to side with the future king?

Dimitri was a good person.

Claude was one of the few people who truly hit the lord where it hurt. When they both had time to indulge the other’s company, the students residing there had gotten used to the distant shouting that came from them. Claude was rarely the one emitting these noises, but he was most always the one causing them.

It wasn’t that they were arguing, but it was more of Claude doing something that was so horribly brash that the very action had caused a reaction from the well-mannered prince. Back then, the trickster had simply always seen the shouting as a nuisance, but it was never anger.

Dimitri had never really been angry at Claude. Just annoyed. Even at Gronder where Dimitri had struck his ally down and given him scars that were still yet to be healed, Dimitri had been vengeful at Edelgard, not him. Claude was just in the way of the man who’d been blinded by rage. In those moments, the tactician had feared for his life despite not even being the recipient of the anger.

After the nobles had accepted his plan with hesitant arms, Claude began his planning as soon as Judith left. It carried on through the night and the night after that, but despite this lack of sleep, Claude’s hands seemed to write faster than before. It was as if he was racing against time itself.

Any visitors seemed to notice his lacking hospitality throughout the following days, and the arrivals slowed after a few days of constant disregard. Only a few people dared to force themselves in, and his dearest friends were just a handful.

Hilda was the most persistent person to try her hand at holding a conversation. He’d long forgiven her after the meeting, and she took her place on his bed, for the most part, to continue ranting on various matters. There were times where she would beg for a tall tale to escape his lips to try and distract him from his work if even for a few seconds, but he refused for her request to deter him. It took restraint to force her out of his room at times, but he managed it every time.

Lorenz tended to keep his distance, and in return, Claude didn’t approach him for any offers of assistance. They were rocky, but Claude had grown accustomed to never truly being in the noble’s good grace. The thought didn’t overly bother him. He’d rather kiss a toad than get on his knees and beg to be loved by Lorenz of all people.

Ignatz was actually one of his few visitors, and the man took great care of his visitation rights. He never usually pestered Claude, but instead, he had offered to draw the tactician into a painting. At first, he’d been partly flustered at the idea of being captured in one of the artist’s works, but what kind of friend would he be to put down such an idea?

So Ignatz visited Claude whenever he was free to continue his drawing which he refused to allow him to even peek at. They interacted in idle chatter, but the painter understood that the man was busy with another one of his schemes. 

Judith checked on him from time to time, but she wasn’t much for conversation. She was just as busy as he was with preparing her troops for battle, and her visits usually only lasted for a mere few minutes before she dashed back out the door. It was nice seeing her face, but he wasn’t so sure if she felt the same way. He hadn’t slept in days, and she showed her discontent with the way he carried himself through her expressions. Maybe he looked a little more disheveled than usual, but this was important. One wrong move and someone could die—she could die.

Even with these visitors, there was only one who could truly pull him away from his work, and the man did so without even attempting to. There were many nights where Claude would be working, his eyes threatening to close on the spot, and Dimitri would let himself in just to sit in the corner and watch him work. It was a reserved gesture, and each time it occurred, Claude would lose his attention and focus it on the prince who’d taken residence in his area.

Dimitri didn’t ask for the attention, but he didn’t relent it either. Claude wasn’t sure what it was about the prince, but being around him was different—relaxing in a way. It was as if he’d been so surrounded by those that wanted to crush him, that the presence of someone who didn’t have any cruel intent for him was an oddity. Sure, his friends had never shown any true spite in their actions towards him, but they expected things from him. He was their house leader after all. There was always something placed above his head with them without them even meaning to. Claude had authority with them. He had to protect them.

Claude didn’t have to protect Dimitri, and he found that thought calming. He didn’t have to worry about Dimitri getting angry with him for something he did or a joke he made, and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating his needs. They were equals in power in that aspect. The only thing Dimitri wanted was Edelgard’s head, and Claude had promised him security in the long run. They would get there eventually.

But tonight was different.

Preparations had been made for the upcoming day, and they would be marching to Fort Merceus by first light. It had been a rough few weeks, and the pure exhaustion radiating from the tactician burned into the crevasses and cracks of the walls. Goddess, he was beyond the point of sleep deprivation, but there was so much to do.

Claude weighted the Alliance on his shoulders. The lives of soldiers were at his very fingertips, and the good man inside of him couldn’t just let them die without seeing their families again. He couldn’t willingly allow a slip-up, so he worked through the dulling hours of the night.

With a sudden bang, his door slammed open, and there stood Dimitri like usual. Before they’d even made eye contact, Claude knew he was lazily smiling at the boy despite his growing fatigue. It was usually a time for recreation whenever he dropped by; a time for the tactician to take a break and allow himself to breathe, but the glare on Dimitri’s face was different than usual. It wasn’t emotionless or lost as it routinely was.

For the first time since they’d known one another, Dimitri was mad at Claude.

“Claude.”

“Dimitri? Did something happen? You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost,” but once the words left Claude’s mouth, he quickly apologized for the tactless joke. Dimitri didn’t budge from the opening, but his face was too twisted in rage for Claude to pinpoint if he’d even heard it.

“You are injured,” The border of the door looked as if it was about to be ripped off, and Claude attempted to look back at his work to ease the fear in his mind. What could he have possibly done in the confines of his room to anger Dimitri so much? “Let me see your wounds.”

“I’m fine Dimitri. I’ve been walking for weeks,” Claude tried to wave the prince away from him, but he simply ignored him and stomped closer. When he was close enough to grab Claude, the tactician waved his pencil to jokingly hold him off, but something told him that whatever was going on definitely wasn’t a joke. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Do not lie. Your retainers just informed me that you won’t be fully healed for another month,” Dimitri let out a sigh at the pencil before ripping it from Claude’s grasp and throwing it across the room. “You cannot go tomorrow.”

“You asked my friends about me? Here I thought you just brooded in your room until you decided to come visit me! I’m proud of you, your highness. You’re really ge—what are you doing?” Dimitri had picked up one of the various papers scattered across the desk and began to scan it. A heightened sense of adrenaline overcame Claude, and he jumped from his seat to regain it, but the sudden force only caused his legs to buckle. He tumbled back into his seat, and the look on Dimitri’s face only worsened at the event. “Dimitri, give that back.”

“You can’t even stand to take this paper from me, yet you expect to have the strength to engage in battle. You are as much of a fool as you were five years ago,” Claude knew it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did, but being called childish despite everything he was doing—everything he was going to do—was insulting. “You won’t be going.”

“I’m sorry to say this, your highness, but you aren’t my king. This is the Alliance, and it’s my territory. You’re under my rules, my friend,” Claude finally regained his confidence and tried once more to take the paper back. He succeeded in grabbing the tip, but Dimitri eased it away before he could gain a tighter hold on it.

“What if you were to die in battle because you couldn’t keep a tight hold on your beast? What are you to do then?”

“Then the Alliance will carry you to the Empire themselves, and my legacy will continue on in the hearts of my friends,” Claude shot right back with a hint of unease threatening to spill into his voice. “No matter what happens to me, I have allies here that will ensure that you’ll get what you want. On top of that, don’t you have any faith in your friendly deer? I survived once, didn’t I?”

“Shut up,” Dimitri muttered, his hand dropping the paper to the floor. He paced the room quietly as if something was lingering on the top of his tongue, and Claude frantically took the distraction as a chance to retrieve the forgotten notes. “Surely you put more respect in your life than that? You can't possibly hold yourself on such a low standard.”

Seeing the prince so distraught was off-putting at best, but there was no ignoring the rage hiding between his words. Everything he touched seemed to practically break in half on the spot, and everything he looked at would have died had it been alive.

“I’m not holding myself on a low standard, your princeliness. I’m just taking calculated risks and doing what’s best for the Alliance. Speaking of which,” but Claude didn’t have time to finish before Dimitri ripped the book he’d begun pulling from the mess out of his hands and onto the floor. “I’m going to have to ask that you stop flinging my stuff around.”

“You don’t even understand the risks, do you?”

“I understand them plenty, my friend. Why are you so messed up about this? If I were to fall—which is next to impossible considering my track record—you would still be ensured security in my quarters. You still win no matter what,” He picked the book back up off the floor; he decided that Dimitri would just see his plan when it happened then. There was no point in showing the arrangement to a brick wall. 

“That is none of my concern. I do not care for the protection,” The words coming from his mouth seemed to startle the prince himself, but he looked resolved to match his shock. “I will not fight if you intend to sacrifice your life in such a careless way.”

“Sorry, your highness, but you still don’t make the rules here. You’re needed on the front lines. I find that your strength will be incredibly useful to them,” It was no use hiding that Dimitri contained some sort of superhuman fortitude. After all, he had massacred entire forces to retrieve Claude upon his arrival, and that had only taken a few minutes to endure. Having him on the front lines was a beneficial move towards their cause despite his princely status.

Dimitri looked like a child in a sense. It was weird staring at him and seeing such a thing, but the way he pouted his lip and lowered his eye reminded Claude of a small noble not getting what he wanted. Of course, this was a much more serious matter, and Dimitri could easily threaten him into submission or at the very worse break his legs and he would be forced to comply for the time being.

“Will you tell me what’s really bothering you? I’m a capable leader, Dimitri. I know what I’m doing, and I’ve had the upper hand over you plenty of times, haven’t I? I’ll be fine,” Finally after trying to avoid the problem, he stood from his position without the force from before and stumbled to his guest to get a better look at him. “Did something happen? You’re not usually so aggressive. Don’t tell me you’re worried about me, are you?”

When Dimitri didn’t respond, it felt like the room had gone cold. The once warm Derdriu was now freezing his bones, and Claude was embarrassed to admit that his movements stopped at the realization.

A few seconds passed after the tactless joke, and Claude trusted that his jab had been true. Dimitri was worried for him.

“I cannot allow for you to be like them.”

“Like who? The voices in your head?” He was thankful that the conversation had started up again. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle the confrontation in the deprived state he was in. Dimitri once again when quiet, so Claude took that as permission to continue, “You worry too much, your highness. I’ll be protected at all times. This isn’t like Derdriu, my friend. I actually had time for a plan,”

“You do not understand.”

“But I can try, can’t I?”

Dimitri was quiet once again, but he wasn’t looking at Claude with the same look as before. There was a void between them—a plane that the tactician may never be able to cross no matter how many devious schemes he devised. No, this look was something else entirely. It was faint and distant of life; the same look he gave ghosts in their tent weeks prior.

Dimitri was looking at Claude as if he were already dead.

“If you will not listen to the words of a monst—no...” he paused for a second to fumble for the right words, “—your ally, then I fear that nothing will sway you.”

“Your suspicions are correct, my friend. This is happening with or without your support,” It was the last words spoken between them: bitter and resentful. Dimitri gave one last desperate look at Claude, but when he realized that he had lost, he swiftly left without another word. 

Maybe being mad in this sense showed good progress in the prince. That was what Claude attempted to convince himself when Dimitri departed the room with only a fleeting glance and brush of shoulders. It was small, but a part of him hoped it was a good thing. After all, the other times when Dimitri got enraged, he’d gotten over it. He’d been angry and emotional, but then he would return to his vengeful self-loathing without any grudges to hold. For once it felt like perhaps Dimitri had taken it to heart; their conversation had meant something to him.

Not to mention, Claude wasn’t sure if he could stomach the fact that his fate had such an impact on his ally. It had been a shock to hear, after all. He’d been so caught up in his various uses to the prince that the idea of actually meaning something to him hadn’t crossed his mind.

That was a lie. Of course, it’d crossed his mind, but he’d been trying to suppress the thought entirely. He didn’t have the time to be worrying over something so childish, but it had cracked his exterior one too many times. However, now it was real. Now the very ideas that he’d hidden away were fabricated to reality: Dimitri truly worried for the safety of Claude for no other reason than to care for him as a person.

That stuck with the tactician more than he liked admitting. It made him feel vulnerable—unprotected to the grueling nature of the warm emotion capturing his heart.

Stop.

Claude shook his head at the thought to clear his mind. He had a war outside his doorsteps. Now was the worst time for something as naive as whatever he was experiencing, but it was hard to think about anything else.

By the next morning, the Alliance declared their departure from the capital, and the first armies set off towards Fort Merceus with their heads set high towards the skies. Soldiers buddied up into squadrons with their likable allies to chant jokes and cover their backs, and horses obeyed their masters with every command without a second glance.

The faster they moved, the quicker they would arrive. That was the mindset at least, but with stretches of too familiar hills and rivers, it felt like ages. The dawn faded to dusk and back again, and spirits went with it like the melody of a tune gone far too long. Still, moral was held on a pedestal with songs into the night and jokes passing through crowds in timeless games.

Of course, even those who seemed down were soon uplifted by the mighty Raphael whether they liked it or not. With their frowns came his joyous laughter after he challenged them to a brawl. Those were fun to watch in the evenings while the camp was being set up, and the occasional civilians from passing towns would sometimes be the ones to participate in these contests; the winner who overtook the brute claimed their prize in a fair amount of gold.

It was lively—that much was for sure.

“If you don’t eat, you’ll get wrinkles,” Hilda sighed to Claude one evening while they peeked over their maps at the display of Raphael slamming someone into the ground. It looked as if he had been trying to hug them as congratulations, but the man had been so skinny and small that the impact itself knocked them both over.

He looked at her with a false smile and picked at his small ration with delay. The wyvern laying beside him wasn’t his own, but it was gorgeous despite its unfamiliarity. Her scales were something of a blinding silver jewel, and the details of her wings looked carved out of a fairy tale with their intricate curls and curves. She breathed into the grass—the stems of the plants below bristles against his thigh—and laid herself to rest.

“Worrying over me will give you wrinkles, Hilda,” he curled his finger over a loose strand of his hair and leaned back. The map in his hand settled to the floor, far enough from the campfire to not burn. 

“You have so much going on in that head of yours, Claude. It really makes me wonder what’s bothering you all the time,” she told him before standing and leaving him to his thoughts to go greet someone. He watched her silhouette scurry away before the grin dropped from his face; the light from his eyes dissipated as if it was never even there. 

The next few days of travel were the same as they’d always been: tiring and jovial. However, the mood slowly shifted to something more tense and hard to crack. People knew that the time was coming for their weapons to be drawn for blood rather than laughter. Their hits would no longer produce cheers.

It would produce screams.

By the time Fort Merceus was in view, Claude felt his resolve falling. It had been easy to try and distract himself with silly games and riveting contests, but now he looked the brick face-to-face. His name, his life, his entire rebellion against the Empire had led to this. His friends trusted in his leadership, his constituents saluted his house flag, and his wyvern beamed at his skills.

So why did he feel so terrible about all of this?

He’d gone over the plan over and over in his head, but now doubt had begun to settle in his mind like never before. That was how it always was, wasn’t it?

Judith visited him in the night with a bottle of ale to spend their night with which he grudgingly declined—never having been one to get drunk. She bid him a sideways glance but didn’t hesitate to down the entire cup by herself without a second thought.

“Hilda’s been telling me that you’re not eating. Is that true, boy?”

“No it’s not true, and stop calling me that. I ate some of Marianne’s toast this morning after she force-fed me in the politest way possible,” The memory made him cringe. She’d been a little down with the idea of battle so close, so she’d cooked herself some toast. When he’d happened to pass by, the look the girl had given him had ridden him with guilt. They weren’t the worst, but he couldn’t imagine himself eating them at a constant rate. Still, there wasn’t any way he was going to reject her kind offer.

“Not eating before a fight isn’t a good idea. Are you trying to die or something?” She mocked his gag and continued sipping on the remnants of her beverage. He turned his head away from her to stare at a piece of grass. The rest of the camp could have possibly been listening in despite the snores emitting from the army. 

“I’m just a little nervous, alright? Nothing a good bit of rest won't do me away with,” Claude picked a piece of grass between his fingers and fiddled with the snippet. He wanted her to leave him alone. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Is it your little friend?”

“My what?” That caught his attention, and the woman was shifting her attention to the distance. It didn’t take him long to recognize the direction though, and he sighed. He knew where she was looking. He’d been looking there all night. “Of course not.”

It was hard to see in the pitch black of the night, but the distant campfire light hinted at the grime of the armor sitting in the plains. Dimitri was sitting in the grass separated from the others with his eyes set on the fort at all times as if he blinked it would be gone. 

Dimitri had, of course, tagged along in their heist, and he seemed to be willing to comply with the plan. Claude still hadn’t informed the prince of his added addition, but he wasn’t sure if the man would take it well considering his dormant anger, so the topic had never come up. He’d just have to find out on his own.

They’d only spoken once the entire trip to discuss his position, and after that, Dimitri had kept his distance from Claude entirely. If the tactician entered an area, he would stray the opposite direction, and if one of Claude’s various allies attempted to make conversation, he would completely ignore them. 

Claude would never admit that he was hurt by the obvious avoidance, but others would probably say otherwise at a first glance.

“I see he isn’t at your heels anymore. Did something happen that I should be aware of?” Judith spoke once more.

“It’s none of your business. I think you’ve had one too many drinks, my friend,” Claude chuckled at her waving hands to the best of his ability, but she simply rolled her eyes at his defensive response. “What occurs between me and my personal affairs is none of your concern.”

“So he’s your personal affair now?” Claude scoffed at her and finally stopped trying to ease the drink from her. He hoped she drowned in it for all he cared. “I’m just worried for you, kid. You’re not usually so off-balance.”

“I’ll be settled once we win,” She watched him with her empty cup in hand.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Claude. Don’t go into this fight with regrets, alright?” She bid him farewell. Claude groaned into his hands once she was far enough to not be able to hear him, and he peeked once more at Dimitri who seemed to finally have found interest in other things than the fort.

The man had taken to tossing flowers petals to his feet to distract himself. Claude watched him play with the weeds despite knowing it was improper to watch. It wasn’t like he was hiding his gaze, but who knows what the prince would do if he found out.

He looked relatively peaceful from where Claude sat, and the tactician felt something inside of him yearning to call out for his company.

“No regrets, huh?” The cuts in his back seemed to ache on impact—their imprints burned his flesh. Maybe Dimitri had been right. Maybe he couldn’t fight like this, but what was he to do on the sidelines? He’d come so far, and he’d fought in worse conditions, hadn’t he?

Claude laid into his makeshift bed and turned to face away from the prince. He didn’t have any regrets. Judith didn’t know what she was talking about.

He’d be fine. He always was


	7. A Deafening Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alliance finally lays siege on Fort Merceus, and Claude has everything planned perfectly with two goals in his mind: neutralize the Death Knight and claim the fort under his rule. Doing so would crush the Empire's morale, after all. However, he only tells a handful of people, and the prince's cold attitude has led him to being out of the loop. Because of this, Dimitri's anxieties run high, and in an attempt to find the Master Tactician among the bloodshed, he embarks on his own path to find Claude in the midst of battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's been eight days since I updated, and I made this update super long to compensate for that (This chapter ended up reaching 9.1K words which I'm still in shock by). I spent a lot of this chapter stuck at various parts, and a lot of the story changed in the process of me writing this. Despite that, I hope this extra long chapter is enough to make up for my absence, and I'm already writing the next one. Thank you for reading!.

They started the attack at first light.

The main army had come forward with Judith as the head of the battalion on her mighty horse, and she’d been dressed in red. They were all dressed in red.

That was the plan: they were reinforcements that had gone astray and were arriving late and unannounced. Once inside, on Claude’s signal, they would launch the attack and begin the siege.

A man greeted them at the entrance with his wide, welcoming smile as if they were all old friends. His blue hair stuck out among the other generals, and from afar it didn’t even look real. Judith went to him, of course. He looked the most important.

Beside him was another man with greener hair and a more restless expression upon his face. He looked weary of the woman approaching them, but he didn’t question it alongside his friend.

“I’m guessing you’re the ones who let us in, yeah?” Judith asked in the most formal voice she could put on, and the blue-haired man nodded his head. “I didn’t happen to catch your names on the way in? I’m guessing you must have some sort of position here.”

“Didn’t Edelgard tell you when she deployed you?” One of them asked—the less joyful one—before he was interrupted.

“I’m Caspar von Bergliez, and this sad mope is Linhardt von Hevring. We’re the generals set up here until more reinforcements like you show up. What took so long anyway?” He held his hand out to be shaken, Judith reluctantly took the gesture with a smile despite her intentions to betray said grin. “You’re pretty late.”

“Never mind that. Isn’t there another standing general here that I should be shaking hands with?” Linhardt didn’t move to take her hand, but she didn’t falter with her questions despite his ruder nature. The look he was giving her was still skeptical as if he was seconds from just shouting her truth, but the resistance in his figure stopped him from acting on his doubts.

On the other side of the fort stood another army—much smaller than the one at the entrance. Claude led this group, and he stood proud on the front lines. He had changed his textures overnight into an Almyran cloth and snuck away from the soldiers sleeping while recruiting his personal battalions into battle. He was sure to get an earful from his fellow aides afterward, but for now, he pushed the thought to the side.

They were waiting on the sidelines for something unknown to a majority of the men; sitting in idle banter, a few groans of displeasure from the tension bubbling in their stomachs rose in the deafening silence.

People could have mistaken them for cowards away from the battle, but one look at their leader said otherwise. He was confident, he was composed, and any form of worry that had taken form in the previous night looked to be completely dissipated with the waking morning. Doubt escaped the crowd’s minds as they stared at him. It was hard to not have high spirits in his constant presence, and none of them wanted to be found not having their trust completely handed to the battle.

After what felt like a millennium, a movement developed from the treetops ahead, and the once rested troops gripped their swords and readied their bows at a moment’s notice. Claude, on the other hand, allowed a smile to slip on his face as the sound of pounding hooves reared closer, and the wyvern he flew atop of prepared itself to take flight if needed despite its owner’s senile contrast.

Another army stretched through the forest in front of them, and an unfamiliar man led the imposing force. He was much larger than half of the volunteered soldiers at hand, his shoulders bared their skin towards the light of the morning sun. His beard was long and seemingly unkempt but not to the point of distaste or disgust but a rather scruffy look. Fearsome scars decorated the canvas of his body as he approached with no intention of slowing his steed down.

A few of the soldiers shared glances out of worry about their next action. They didn’t look like Empire troops, and instead, they bore colors of green to match the forest that surrounded them. There were hushed whispers of panic and scratching heads until suddenly a name arose from a few mouths that rendered others into a frenzy.

They wore the colors of Almyra.

Spears were readied as were bows, and the stance of the Alliance soldiers suddenly became hostile in a matter of seconds. Eyes fled to their leader for a choice of action on when to fire, but the man seemed completely unbothered by the reveal. It was as if he’d already known.

A smirk played on Claude’s lips as they neared, and he stepped forward—separated from his small army. The man from the other army raised his own bow in combat, and an arrow followed soon after aimed directly at him. Claude was quick though, his fingers had already wrapped around his weapon. He fired seamlessly before taking care to pull out a sword from his sheathe as a follow-up. The man did the same. 

With a leap, Claude departed from his men and catapulted his body into the air. He let out a shout, and his opponent seemed to almost increase speed towards the attack.

They met halfway in a fierce clash that pushed both of them back to their starting positions. A gasp carried throughout the Alliance soldiers at their leader, and many of them stood there unsure of if this was an order to attack. He didn’t look in danger, and his calm stance spoke the opposite of what they felt like they should do, but was he just deluding the enemy? Had he expected them to raise their swords and join him?

“I see your skills have yet to dull, kiddo!” The opposing figure let out a hearty laugh to which Claude closely mirrored with his charm. He hopped off the horse he had ridden to attack and stared at their leader—the sword in his hand hit the light at just the right spot to blind a few gawking soldiers.

“What did you expect?” There was a hidden relief woven between his words when he spoke as if their arrival had greatly dulled his worry. Finally coming to a decision, few of the men behind him lowered their weapons and simply left their previous worries behind them. This wasn’t an attack but rather a friendly spar on closer inspection.

Claude chuckled at his own arrogance and faltered in his defensive stance for long enough to pass the message to his army to drop their weapons. Any remaining stragglers that hadn’t gotten the memo complied with hesitance as if at that very moment, the brutes in front of them would begin their siege.

“Everyone, listen up!” Claude finally addressed his followers who he had been strategically avoiding during the entire interaction. “From now on, the Almyran forces will be fighting by our side! We’ll work as one! And we will bring down the fort together!”

Of course, there was a question in their eyes over if this was a smart idea, and their leader had anticipated the doubt from a mile away. He’d pondered how to handle it for endless nights while he planned, and even now the lack of sleep controlled his mind and faltered his outlook on the battle. They were harsh and quiet at his announcement, and he wondered if they hadn’t heard him. Perhaps he had been too quiet or imagined the entire exchange in his mind?

But the man ahead of them had heard, and a loud roar emitted from his throat in cheer. The Almyran soldiers behind him joined in the shouting as they stepped forward to join the Alliance.

Claude knew he looked like a naive fool: how could he truly trust such a savage nation with the power of joining them when they could easily stab him in the back. Even in their spar, had Claude made the wrong step, his chest would have been split open by the sheer impact. That would have been fun to explain to Marianne if he lived long enough to tell the tale: Alliance leader puts his trust in the very people the nation had been rivaling for centuries and ends up dead at the start of their newfound partnership.

The weary few began to join the cheers as if they hadn’t been quiet seconds prior, and the confidence Claude desperately needed flooded his senses. They could do this.

“That was quite a show, Nader. You do that every time you form a bond with someone?” Claude approached his equal who simply hit his back out of admiration. There was enough force to make him stumble, and that only made the man’s laugh grow.

“I see your humor also hasn’t dulled, kiddo! I heard about your fall at that capital of yours. Glad to see you’re on your feet,” His voice was loud and booming among their combined armies, and a faint blush found Claude’s face despite his desperate need for a neutral appearance. He wished his friend wasn’t so loud. “It must be that blood flowing in you. That still a secret?”

“I’d appreciate if we could keep that between us, my friend.”

“Of course, Master Claude,” the tone he used addressing him was mocking and teasing as if he found what Claude was doing here as childish. Still, he respected him. He drew his sword and looked to the fort ahead with the face of a man who’d done this a thousand times over. “I’d like to catch up over drinks, but I’m sure you’re eager to take this teeny fort. You did ask for help from me after all!”

“Trust me. We can have our share of drinks after our battle. We have a lot to discuss, after all. When’s the last time I saw you?” It was a rhetorical question, and they shared a familiar look between each other with hands outstretched into a handshake. Nader resisted pulling the man in front of him into a hug, understanding that it would probably ruin whatever cover they still had going for him. It confused him, but he understood what Claude had wanted in his letter: a formal relationship. 

Claude watched the fort from his position, and he could only hope that Judith had secured an entrance into the desired location.

But he also had other things to worry about—things he shouldn’t have had to worry about.

On the other side of the camp stood Hilda who’d taken a position between Lorenz and another unnamed soldier. Judith stood at the front of their makeshift army talking the ears off of two generals who she knew all too well, and something in her heart ached.

Caspar has grown in their time apart, and he was no longer the short boy from the Academy but rather a vigilant knight standing before them. The jokes of him being a small child were now fading in her mind, and his partner beside him had grown to look more tired with the war as if the fighting had worn him out through the years. She’d never talked much to Linhardt in her school days. She’d never seen him as much of a chance to get what she wanted with his lazy demeanor surpassing her own.

Caspar had been a joy though, and now staring at him felt like staring into the eyes of a ghost. She was supposed to kill him now, wasn’t she?

But she also had another task as her eyes continued to wander while awaiting Claude to attack from wherever he was planning to start his siege. She had been hardly listening when he’d explained to her the plan a few days before, and now she greatly regretted doing so. Of all the times to not listen...

Dimitri stood a little in front of her, and she groaned in her mind that Claude had placed the responsibility of watching him in her care. When she’d first announced that they would be partnered during the battle, the man had simply grunted without even a word spoken. Even after Hilda had called him a “greasy wreck” in the nicest way possible, he’d still refrained from uttering a single word.

She remembered him being a lot nicer in the halls of Garreg Mach.

Claude had warned her of this though, and she’d noticed that he’d said so with a laugh. Perhaps the laugh had dulled her to believe that maybe it would be better than expected. After all, the two had seemingly become fast friends.

But Dimitri showed no interest in her like others usually did. Instead, his attention was scattered. Claude had warned her of that too, but today something was different.

“I do not see Claude.”

“Hm?” Hilda had tilted her head towards him before their march into the fort. It was the first words he had spoken to her since Derdriu, and she at first hadn’t been able to even comprehend it. “Claude? He’s busy.”

“How are we to march without him?” He refused to meet her eye she noticed, but she was busy enough with dressing her body in Imperial armor they’d stashed. It had been a hassle trying to get Dimitri out of his disgusting apparel and into the red cloths, but somehow she’d managed it after consistent nagging. “Where did he go?”

“Mr. Leader Man is just in his own unit. He’ll be somewhere else,” Hilda piped up while putting her boot on. Dimitri finally raised his head to look at her figure on the ground, and the girl startled herself with the expression on his face. “It’s okay though. I’ll be your protector until he comes back.”

It was a joke. If anything, he would protect her from incoming forces. She hadn’t forgotten what he’d done in Derdriu, after all. It had been a terrifying sight to behold.

Dimitri didn’t find the jab very funny. He looked completely out of it—tuning anything else she said afterward from his mind. She didn’t let it hurt her pride. She was sure that about half of the things she said went over Claude’s head too, but at least he acted like he cared to try and get on her good side. This man was tough—fought enough to survive without her help. Dimitri would be fine was something she’d thought as he sat uncaringly and waited for her to finish getting ready. She wasn’t sure what Claude was so worried about.

But now that they were inside the fort and seconds from beginning their attack, she wasn’t so sure.

Dimitri was antsy as if being clustered between so many bodies was overwhelming him, and his eyes were searching for something. Hilda wasn’t entirely sure what he could be looking for at such a time, but she wasn’t sure how to make him focus on the task at hand.

There was no way she was going to die for some reckless fool, but she couldn’t just let Claude down like this. If Dimitri went looking for whatever he wanted and got himself killed, she had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well with whatever her leader had in store for their rebellion.

“Dimitri, calm down,” she whispered behind her mask; she’d equipped it before the battle to cover her identity from any familiar faces. Dimitri didn’t respond to her call out, and Lorenz nudged her shoulder atop of his horse as if to quiet her down. She nudged him back out of spite and leaned forward to tap Dimitri’s shoulder.

That got his attention, and Hilda found herself paralyzed with fear whenever the man whipped his head around to glare at her. If she wasn’t half-sane, she could have sworn that he even growled at her, but there was no way.

“I’m going to go find him,” Dimitri muttered and he proceeded to begin trying to shuffle past a few of the soldiers. Of course, he wanted Claude. She’d been a fool to not realize it sooner. Caspar and Linhardt were yet to notice the disturbance, but Hilda knew it was only a matter of time before they recognized him. He wasn’t exactly short.

“He’ll be fine! You should be more worried about yourself,” she whispered and held a little tighter on his arm to keep him in place. It seemed that he held enough consciousness to not want to cause a commotion, but she wasn’t sure how long that would last. “I’m supposed to be watching over you!”

“I don’t need a babysitter. Let alone one of his silly consorts.”

“If you ruin this, he’ll be in more danger than he already is. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Hilda!” Lorenz nudged her once again, and she shot him a quick glance as if pleading with him to shut up. 

Dimitri looked at Lorenz and back at Hilda, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. He fell back into line without rebuttal, but the girl eyed him a little too closely out of fear that he’d decide against complying and burst out into the open.

It didn’t matter after a few more seconds though.

An explosion sounded from the other side of the fortress, and Judith took that as a sign that their attack had begun. Even from their distance, the appearance of several wyverns sprouted from the crash wearing colors of green and yellow combined. With his head turned, Caspar let out a sound of shock as he stumbled to take hold of his weapon, but the woman in front of him worked quicker. She’d been holding her sword closely by her side their entire conversation, and now it found its way into his abdomen.

It was a blur after that. The Alliance troops let out a fierce battle cry as they charged forward to overtake the remaining general who’s eyes were wide at his fallen friend. Despite the shock, Linhardt caught Caspar before he hit the ground and pushed around ten soldiers from their position with the whisper of a spell. Blood oozed from the wound at an alarming rate.

Hilda felt bad seeing the boy reduced to nothing but a sputtering mess, and it even felt like their eyes connected for a second before Linhardt warped to two of them to a safe location. There wasn’t a chance that he would make it, but before they’d warped, a command had been issued out for any Empire soldiers in the area to retaliate. She could mourn later. Killing friends had never been her specialty, after all.

An arrow whizzed past her face, and she quickly removed herself from its direction before removing the axe from her sash and swinging in any direction she heard a noise. It connected with the head of an enemy soldier, and she muttered a small apology before kicking his body from her weapon.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Hilda spun around and aimed at another soldier—this time she threw the axe as hard as she could until it made an impact.

From the direction of the explosion, Claude rode on his unfamiliar wyvern—a grim expression falling over his face as he examined the lives he’d taken in the debris. That was a shame, of course. Their bodies littered the stone floors of the fort, and arrows replaced their positions. Any soldiers that hadn’t been caught in the fire now aimed for the new threat and excessive screaming sounded for back up.

It was easy dodging past arrows—Claude had never expected it to be any different—but Dimitri hadn’t been completely wrong. Staying on top of his animal was a lot more difficult without the full mobility of his legs, but it wasn’t as it had been that fateful night when they’d ridden together. He was more stable now—more prepared.

Nader took to his left with a large grin and a traditional weapon in hand. He gave him a little wave from the ground before slapping the horse he rode into a frenzy and charging right into a squadron. In seconds, they were all sprawled across the floor coughing for aid, and Claude got his daily reminder on why Alymrans had such a brutal title. A few of his men cheered the kills on before joining their hero in battle. 

There was a spell that rammed straight into the underbelly of Claude’s wyvern that took him off balance. When he turned to face the attackers, the line up of mages instantly recognized his profile and began announcing his presence to the rest of the fort. It was too late for secrecy anyways, so he didn’t take much thought into firing five arrows into their backs after they’d had their fun of screaming alerts.

There was a certain adrenaline that coursed through his veins at the idea of battle. It wasn’t satisfying to kill as it might have been for the prince, but it was satisfying seeing his plans come to fruition.

But he had one objective by this surprise attack: to neutralize the infamous Death Knight. It had been an inside joke with himself at the Academy of the former teacher’s elegant arrivals. He’d always made himself well known wherever he went, and his mask seemed to distort his voice—making it louder and echo. Claude had been hoping the same would occur during the battle, but so far, he’d seen no sign of the general.

I guess that meant they were playing hide and seek. That was fine. Claude liked games. 

Not only would the fall of Fort Merceus lower the spirits of the Empire, but the Death Knight’s defeat would also revolutionize the Alliance’s power. They’d be on the winning side. They’d be that much closer to achieving their goal. Things could begin to start anew so much quicker.

But if Jeritza truly wanted to delay the inevitable, Claude supposed that he would have to beat him at his own game.

However, others weren’t having such a pleasurable time as their fearless leader—Hilda being one of them.

Not only was her axe hurting her back, but she was actually breaking a sweat. Soldier after soldier catapulted themselves at her small figure expecting to overtake her, and time and time again she was forced to mow them down with a single swipe. It was all too tiring, and she was beginning to grow weary of it. There was also another problem that she was a little embarrassed to admit, and she was sure Claude would be furious if he found out.

Hilda had completely lost sight of Dimitri.

How could she lose such a large man so quickly? She wasn’t quite sure either, but it was clear that he’d gone to do exactly what she didn’t want him to do. Even she wasn’t sure exactly where Claude could be, and trying to find him would be more work than she’d signed up for.

Why did being his friend require so much effort? 

“Marianne!” Hilda shouted as she noticed the blue-haired girl had been overtaken by an enemy soldier. With a sigh, she aimed her axe at his head and hurled it with a newfound strength running through her blood. It hit him square in the chest despite her direction, and he went flying off of the maiden.

Marianne quickly rushed to Hilda’s side with a stumble, and the girl opened her arms to accept a hug, but instead, Marianne shouted a spell and projected her magic to something behind her. Hilda whipped her head around to see a fallen Imperial soldier that had been aiming directly for her head.

How sweet.

“Marianne, have you seen Dimitri?” Hilda shouted over the collected screaming, and the girl shook her head in reply. “That’s just great!”

Lorenz was by her side in an instant to fend off an incoming arrow with his shield. He seemed to have caught wind of their conversation, and he pointed closer to the north towards where the initial explosion had taken place.

“I saw him head that way. Do you have any idea what he’s after?”

“Do I really have to answer that?” Hilda groaned at the thought of being separated from the battle, but Claude would be so upset if he found out that the prince had been killed under her watch. “Do you mind taking me there?”

Lorenz quickly moved to the side for the girl as she’d expected. People often had a hard time saying no to her. Just as they began to take off though, Marianne stopped them.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No Marianne. It’s too dangerous. It’s better to stay here where someone can watch you,” Hilda assured her—taking Lorenz’s pocket knife from his belt and flinging it at an incoming soldier. Marianne jumped at the impact, but she still forced herself to sandwich behind Hilda on the steed.

“If he’s hurt, I want to help him,” her voice was soft and quiet among the screaming, but Hilda heard her all too well. She sighed and settled herself better so that Marianne could get more comfortable before Lorenz took off towards the north.

But Dimitri wasn’t hurt. He was quite the opposite. His rage fueled him.

Turns out Dimitri was a nightmare when he felt genuine rage.

Even by himself, he was an absolute unit. His lance cut through entire forces with ease, and the only remains left of the corpses were their mangled faces. He left none in his path as if they were nothing but dirt below his feet. Their screams went in one ear and out the other ear just as everything usually did, and the same look from Gronder plagued his eyes. He was thirsty for blood, and he was receiving a fair share of it in his wake.

The bloodshed didn’t seem to affect him at all though as he continued stepping along the streets of the fort. Instead, his mind wandered and his eyes searched the crevasses and alleyways. 

The skies were crowded with Alliance wyverns taking their strides and striking down those they assumed as enemies. Some even mistook the prince as an Imperial soldier with his red armor and grim expression, but after he showed his bloodied face, many just flew away out of pure fear of even approaching him—enemy or not.

Claude wasn’t one of those flying though. Not anymore at least.

He’d moved to the ground after his wyvern had been taken down by a flying axe. It hadn’t been deadly injured, and he’d managed to make a safe landing in a nearby tree where it was now stationed. Now, he was on the ground searching. It would be better searching on foot, anyways.

In his section, the streets had gone quiet with only the occasional distant screech. He’d gone a distance from the fighting going on and had taken his quest to a more secluded section. That was how hide-and-seek worked after all.

It was eerie traveling without being high in the sky, and his nerves were on constant alert. If someone were watching him, would he even know?

There was an occasional straggler that appeared from the rubble, and he took pride in taking them down before they could get within range to attack him, and if they did happen to pass close enough to strike him down, he was equipped with a small knife to halt their actions.

Maybe if the Death Knight finally decided to show his face, he could end the senseless killing, but there was still no sign of his target. The plan was faltering, but he still had hope.

Suddenly, there was a shout to his left, and Claude ducked behind the closest building to hide his presence. The shout became one of strain as if whoever it was couldn’t breathe, and the leader felt his heart clench at the gruesome noises. Whoever was holding the voice between their hands must have been strong and heartless. Someone who held no compassion in their heart. Someone who didn’t care for who they trampled on.

Claude pondered that thought as he heard the soldier crying for help, and he attempted to stay as quiet as possible. His curiosity grew. Could it possibly be who he was looking for?

In his thinking, a stray cat fled past him; the grip he held on his bow collapsed and a loud pop echoed through the empty alleyway. Claude eyed his bow—his body paralyzed in fear.

He’d been so stupid.

“There is no point in hiding yourself. If you wish to kill me, come forward,” a voice rang out, and it was as if a wave of relief washed over Claude in an instant. He picked the bow up from where it had fallen and peeked around the corner to confirm his newfound theory, and to his luck, he’d been correct.

It was Dimitri.

Claude stepped forward from the shadows with a smile forming upon his face, but he was also confused about how the prince had even made his way towards him. There was no way that he’d known where Claude had landed. No one knew where he was. 

It appeared as if Dimitri hadn’t expected the familiar face either, and an odd emotion flashed across his face for only a moment. The look in his expression was lost—compassionate almost.

“Is that really you? You’re alive?”

“Of course I am. Did you expect me to die?” Claude joked, but Dimitri had yet to move from his position. Below him lay the corpse of who Claude assumed to have been the person screaming seconds before, and the idea of the prince committing such a crime shook his core.

“I just...” his voice faded, and it was as if seeing Claude in the flesh had confused him to the point of speechlessness.

Claude would have gladly teased him more about it, but his mouth suddenly went dry.

The Death Knight had finally made his grand appearance.

He was behind Dimitri, and his eyes traveled over the pair—waiting in the darkness of one of the many buildings. The holes in his mask glowed red and illuminated the obscurity of the situation—the shallow breathing had gone quiet with the realization that he’d been seen. Dimitri had yet to recognize the person behind him, but Claude did. His mind raced to try and think of what to do, but the knight didn’t give him a second to truly process what he was seeing. Raising his scythe in the air, he allowed the weapon to fall, piercing Dimitri’s back.

The prince let out a cry at the impact, and Claude rushed forward with the first weapon he could think of: his knife. He’d been in awestruck beforehand after searching for so long, but the attack had brought him back to his senses instantaneously. 

Claude reached the pair and flung his arm up to prepare to plunge it into the armor of the knight, but Jeritza had already dodged to the side by the time he arrived. He knocked the knife from the leader’s hand without even trying, and the weapon skidded to the floor where Dimitri wheezed and choked on his blood.

Claude didn’t even think when he pulled his bow out the second his knife had been thrown to the side. His arrows didn’t do much damage to the thick armor, but he fired in trios to try and throw the knight off of his balance for long enough for him to reach for something more powerful.

The Death Knight burst forward with sudden energy and sliced the side of Claude’s arm with his lance. 

“You are but a nuisance.”

“I could say the same for you. How long has it been? Five years?” But the smile on his face was fake and fading. One look to the ground revealed the once terrifying ally struggling to breathe, and the sight on its own left him petrified at the sheer power that such a weapon must have held.

But looking at the ground was a distraction he couldn’t afford to make. The Death Knight took another jab at his direction, and Claude flipped to the side to dodge it. He hadn’t been expecting to be taken so off guard like this. He hadn’t expected to be this vulnerable.

It was just his luck that his legs decided to give out due to the extreme amount of exercise he was enduring. He tumbled to the floor with his bow falling to the side, and his breath felt as if it had been knocked from his lungs right then and there.

“I have no need of you.”

Submitting to things had never been his everyday specialty, but sitting there with a lance directed straight as his head was something people like him didn’t experience on an everyday basis, so this was a rare occasion. It was instinct to shut his eyes, but he was so scared underneath the former teacher that he couldn’t even do that.

He’d come so far just to fail. He couldn’t live with that. He couldn’t just die here.

Yet, the hit never came. There was no splitting of skin against the harsh, cool metal. There was no final cry from the tactician as he took his final breath.

There was just a knife plunged into the chest of the Death Knight.

Dimitri stumbled from where he stood with Claude’s knife in hand, and the Death Knight simply turned to face him—his mask showing no emotion other than that of a beast. He pulled his scythe back out from where it had been pointed at the commander and now aimed it at the prince ready to strike.

Claude took the chance to retrieve his bow once more, and with a pullback of his bow and the close range, he sucked in his energy, shivered his fear, and fired.

The arrow pierced straight through one of the cracks in the armor and straight into the back of Jeritza—directed at his heart. He dropped his weapon out of shock, and the tactician stole it from the floor and raised it into the air as high as he could before bringing it down on his enemy. 

It would have been a sight to witness had Claude stayed, but he was quick to stand fully and take hold of Dimitri. They had to recoup somewhere else if they could, and Claude knew that the Death Knight wouldn’t stay down for long if he had the chance. He’d be back up and after them in seconds had they not fled. The prince allowed himself to be led the opposite direction of the scene, and the two of them stumbled away.

It was a pipe dream to hope that their enemy would be stunned long enough to allow them to escape, and the sound of a distant horse rejected that ideology. This was turning out the exact opposite of how Claude wanted it to.

“Claude? Dimitri?” The voice took him by surprise, and both of the men turned their heads to search for who it had come from. Hilda rode with Lorenz and Marianne on a similar horse to the one The Death Knight rode, and panic settled on his mind. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” Hilda hopped off the steed and ran to the both of them with her axe in hand. 

“You have to get out of here. He’s following us,” Claude was out of breath, but he somehow managed to utter the warning despite their confused expressions.

“Who could you possibly be talking about?” Lorenz scoffed, but he didn’t have to wait long to find out who exactly Claude was referring to.

The Death Knight appeared before them, but he didn’t stop to engage in combat as he’d expected. Instead, the man strode past them with his horse and into a distant horizon.

“Was that—“

“Hilda you have to catch him!” Claude wasn’t sure what he was asking, but his tone was strained, and Dimitri was growing heavy in his grip. “We can't let him escape. If he gets out, I..” his voice faded at the idea that popped into his mind, and he desperately tried to shake the negative thought from his head. Hilda noticed his distress, and she twisted her mouth at him before rushing back to Lorenz and Marianne. The nurse companioned with them eyed Dimitri warily, but Claude simply shook his head to order her away. She would better off with his friends if the Death Knight decided to retaliate.

They raced off without another question, and Claude looked at his companion with a sigh. He had to get both of them somewhere safer in case someone was waiting to attack again. He wasn’t sure if they could hold off another one enemy.

Dimitri seemed as if he wanted to mumble something, but whatever he said was lost in translation, and it came out as a series of incomplete grunts. Claude shushed him as they walked, and he attempted to reposition him into a better hold. Although he’d taken a hard hit, the man somehow found enough strength to limp and provide an easier journey for both of them. It wasn’t much, but it was better than lugging around dead weight.

They tumbled into a seemingly empty residence, and it took everything for Claude to not drop the heavy load in his arms. He settled the prince down in a corner before taking the time to sigh into his hands.

But they still weren’t alone. 

“If you move, I’ll blast the both of you into pieces.”

The voice was familiar, and Claude desperately tried to think of where he’d heard it from. It was faint and on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him. Still, he held his hands up in submission and groaned into the wall. Dimitri didn’t move beside him, and Claude could only hope that he didn’t do anything rash with his remaining strength that could get them killed.

“Whatever grudge you hold against me, let’s settle it over tea. Do you have a preference?” Claude chuckled, and he hoped his friendliness was enough to grant him the chance to turn around to face their captors.

Linhardt stood behind him with a sharp glare settled on his face, and behind him on the opposing wall sat Caspar who looked as if he was close to passing out.

“Claude.”

“Linhardt? Isn’t this a surprise! I remember you well. You were always in the library, weren’t you?” It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but the general seemed broken when his eyes settled on the pair. “Let’s not fight, friend. The Alliance has taken this outpost, and killing us would just ensure your deaths.”

“This senseless fighting is because of you, Claude. I’m not a fool,” Linhardt spat, but the leader took the time to notice features on the boy that he’d failed to notice before. He looked defeated, his clothes were ripped and blood-stained from probably Alliance soldiers, and his eyes were puffy as if he’d been crying. “There is no point. I’d rather die than spend the rest of my days in some disgusting prison cell, so maybe you should just kill us now.”

Dimitri attempted to reposition himself against the wall, but he’d yet to speak. Linhardt stared at him for a second before leaning to his side and whispering a small chant. Claude could only watch in horror, but the peaceful look that overcame the prince quickly replaced any concern.

He was healing him.

After a few more seconds, Linhardt sighed into his hands and stood back up. He stalked towards his blue-haired friend on the other side of the room, and Claude watched him go.

The two generals were the least of his concerns though once a pair of arms wrapped around Claude tighter than he’d ever experienced. It happened so fast, and for a second the leader believed that they were under attack again, but it was just the prince. It was just Dimitri.

“Your highness?” Claude attempted to speak, but Dimitri simply held him tighter as if he let go of him for a second that he would slip away—like a ghost from his imagination. It was foolish to let his guard down once more, but Claude couldn’t help allowing himself the pleasure of hugging him back. “If I weren’t sane, I’d believe that you’re this happy to see me, but there’s no way that’s the case, right?”

“Perhaps it is.”

That was all Dimitri said until he went back into a silence that Claude was almost too afraid to break. This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced with his former friend; it was genuine and real. Had it been anyone else, Claude would have been able to come up with some joke to excuse himself from the contact, but for once he couldn’t utter a single word. It felt vulnerable.

For once in his life, maybe vulnerability was actually okay.

When Dimitri finally let go, he acted as if he hadn’t done what he’d done at all, and instead, his eyes found the other two residents of the makeshift area. Claude couldn’t help but stare at him for a few lingering seconds, but he quickly regained his composure and shared the gaze at the generals.

Caspar looked seconds from death on the ground, and Claude genuinely pitied the once cheerful boy who’d made the halls of the monastery glow with his presence. He’d been so loud and virtuous, and his heart was always in the right place. To see him reduced to a whimpering child clinging to life made Claude sick. Linhardt had every reason to kill them. He had every reason to pierce their chests with the same weapon that had been used on his friend, but instead, he had decided to spare them.

“We have doctors that can save him. We can help you.”

“That was the point, wasn’t it?” Linhardt didn’t look up from his friend’s body, and Claude lifted his eyebrow at the statement. “You didn’t possibly expect that I saved your prince for no reason did you? Of course, you’re going to help me,” he finished—a faint smile resting in his face as he placed a hand to Caspar’s forehead to check his temperature. “I saw your friends. When they come back, you’ll explain the situation to them.”

“You’re bold, you know that?” Claude piped up, but he was grateful for the act of kindness. “You do understand that you’re a traitor to the Empire now, right? There’s no turning back for you.”

“I don’t care for sides, Claude. I just want this war to be over. Isn’t that something a person like me could ask for? Whether it’s you or Edelgard who bring the end, I’d prefer to live to see it,” He paused for a second and allowed his hand to wander to Caspar’s shoulder. “Preferable that he lives to see it as well, do you understand?”

Of course, Claude understood. How could he not?

He would have continued to stare at Linhardt had his energy been in a better condition, and he instead resigned to leaning his head back on the wall to indulge in the silence of the room. 

Goddess, he was so tired. He wasn’t a religious man in terms of Fódlan worship, but he wondered if maybe he should start. Maybe then he’d finally get his big break. There would be a time one day where he would no longer have to worry about looking behind the backs of his friends for monsters at night, and maybe he could live to see the light of a new dawn; the idea alone was enough to make him smile to himself.

But for now, he lived and breathed to himself. His cuts burned into his skin and allowed fresh blood to make minor pools on the stained floor, but they were fixable. Something like this couldn’t take him out.

They’d be ok.

It would have meant the world to continue to take in what had happened, but there was a buzzing in his ear that seemed to only be growing louder as the seconds carried on. Claude shut his eyes and tried to think about something else, but it was as if a fly was shouting in his face, and it grew louder and louder until...

“Claude!” It wasn’t a fly. His head perked up, and Dimitri shared a look with him to confirm that he wasn’t hearing things. Linhardt had also looked to the entrance, and his hands went to a small staff attached to his back for protection. 

The leader struggled to his feet, and with the assistance of the prince who was feeling well enough to stand, they stumbled closer to the door to see who could be calling out for him. It didn’t sound as if it had ill intent, but neither of them held any weapons. Their only source of protection was the mage behind them.

When he peaked his head beyond the frame, he broke out into a chuckle at the image of Judith practically hurling herself towards the group. She was a far way off, and her legs seemed to be taking her faster than anything he’d ever seen. Who knew the woman had it in her?

It was hard to hear what she was yelling, but he could only assume it was cheers of their victory. He waved his arm to greet her despite her distance, and with one last look behind him, the small smile on Linhardt’s face was obvious. They were saved, after all.

But she wasn’t smiling—Claude soon realized. She was screaming, and her head was tilted upwards, looking at something unknown.

The ground around them erupted into their faces and the buildings came crashing down on their heads as if they hadn’t been there for hundreds of years. A flash of light blinded whatever vision Claude held left, and any sort of scream he held within his throat died out with the sounds of rocks crumbling around them.

He felt someone tug at his arm to pull him away, but even then, the feeling vanished and disintegrated into the air, and the hold of the prince left his side.

Was someone screaming? He wasn’t entirely sure, but there was the sound of splitting flesh and crunching bones, and the confusion of it all left his muscles paralyzed.

“Claude!”

There was definitely a voice calling for him, but he couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even register what was going on as the terrain around him exploded into pieces.

There was an object on top of him he soon realized, and it was heavy—practically dead weight on his own, but the protection it held shielded an incoming boulder from smashing his skull in two.

And after a few more seconds of what seemed like hours, everything stopped.

Silence followed the mass destruction that had just ensued, and it was as if what had just occurred had been some sort of fantasy—a figment of his tired mind.

Dust settled and clouded the air with pollution, but the smell of fresh blood stood out beyond the grime of what had formerly been the pavement. Not even the wind seemed to push against the lull of the commotion; the fear of movement rung in the air to prevent another event.

Claude finally allowed himself to cough into his arm, but when he attempted to stand, the object on his body pushed him back down into the laying position. He couldn’t see. There was so much soot between his eyes that the idea of viewing what was pinning him down was nearly impossible in the condition they were in.

But he did so anyway. Pushing aside the pain of the soil, he looked into the area and only saw darkness. Was he under something?

His mind flashed to Dimitri who had been by his side, and the desperate need to move energized him to relocate the item from its resting position. It tumbled to the side with his newfound strength, but he still couldn’t stand. There must have been tons of rubble suffocating him, and he realized with a start that they’d been attacked. Something had happened. He’d just been blown up.

The situation finally caught up with his mind, and he desperately clawed at the gravel above him, but he found that whatever it was couldn’t be removed with ease.

“Dimitri?” Claude called out, but upon doing so, a mouthful of dust clogged his throat, and he refrained from doing so again. It turned out he didn’t have to though, and the sound of frantic shuffling developed outside.

Sudden light swarmed the gap, and he allowed himself to take a gasp of air as if he’d never been able to breathe in his entire life. The light was one of the sun rather than whatever had flashed before their eyes seconds before, and the relief in his veins overwhelmed him.

Dimitri appeared in the opening, and when he saw Claude coughing in the space, he desperately clawed the rest of the rubble from his body despite his numerous injuries. Once Claude could reach out, he did, and Dimitri used the hand he offered to rip him from the ground and into an embrace.

There wasn’t time for a joke this time as Claude tried to analyze what was going on. His eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness, and he tried to break free to look around.

“W-Wha...”

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

The ground had been ripped from the soil and evaporated into the atmosphere—the smell of burned grass scorched the plains. Any buildings that had existed beforehand were no more, and instead, they were clustered along the land in piles where they surrounded dead soldiers and possibly even stood on top of them.

The remnants of what had once been their fort lay in ruin, but Claude was quick to realize that it was the most intact thing in the perimeter. Everything and everyone around them had been turned to mere ash by the attack; if it was even an attack to begin with.

What could have possibly exerted such a force?

Coughing ensued from a faraway distance, and Dimitri leaned Claude on a nearby pile to investigate. He was much stronger than the latter anyways. Claude was too in shock to be much help.

The coughing turned out to be Linhardt who was worse for wear. In his arms, he held Caspar who looked to have stopped breathing entirely, but the general holding him didn’t speak. In fact, he didn’t even stay upright for much longer after Dimitri had dug him up. His eyes closed along with his friend’s, and the two of them rested in the prince’s hold.

“What happened?” It was hard speaking. The dust had settled in Claude’s lungs after being rescued, and the words coming from his throat were so raspy. They didn’t feel like his own.

Dimitri looked at him from where he stood, and he blinked a handful of times before finally deciding that he would stare into the sky—the same thing he’d been staring at when the explosion occurred.

“There was something in the sky, but I know nothing besides that,” his voice cracked, and the noise seemed to startle the brute. It made sense that both of their voices were no longer theirs. “I heard Linhardt telling us to come back, and when everything happened... I pulled us both into his shield.”

“His shield?”

“He is a smart man. He saw it coming and created a protective barrier around our bodies to protect us all. Had he not done that then we would have received a direct hit. Our lives would have...,” there was no need to continue. Claude knew how the sentence would end, and he wasn’t sure how he felt being indebted to the former Black Eagle more than once. “But..”

“But?” Everything hurt it felt like, and his arm was limp from his burial. Questions raced in his mind. Had his army made it out safely? Had they successfully taken the fort before it had been disintegrated?

“I-I lost sight of you, and I feared that you hadn’t made it in time,” Dimitri faltered in his statement, and his eye focused on Claude’s face to confirm once again that he was actually there. This wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t a ghost. “I feared that I had lost y—“

“Claude!” Hilda’s voice rang out among the wasteland, and the Alliance leader turned to see her. She was screeching, and she looked close to tears, but she was alive.

Thank the Goddess; she was alive.

Troops of soldiers followed in pursuit behind her, and they gathered around the survivors with heavy hearts and sober minds. She jumped into his arms with an exaggerated amount of force, and both of them went falling back into the soot in tears.

“Hilda? What happened?” He was quick to ask his questions, and Dimitri resigned to helping Caspar and Linhardt onto a pair of horses where they would be taken to a safer location. Whatever he had been planning to say was lost. 

“We chased that stupid knight to the border, and he got away. Judith met us there to tell us that we’d taken the fort, and it was such a happy moment,” She began speaking after regaining herself from their short-lived reunion, and she helped him stand once more. He was a little wobbly, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it out of the fort without assistance. “But when he was leaving, he just pointed to the sky.”

“What?”

“It’s like he knew what was going on. When we turned around there was some sort of javelin, and it was heading straight down, and Judith panicked and she went running to warn you before it was too late,” Judith? Claude’s mind flashed back to before he’d been struck, and he remembered it well how the woman had been shrieking his name and running as if she was being chased.

She had been running for him.

“Where is she?” Claude croaked, but something in his heart wrenched at the words. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until now, but now that it was there, he found himself unable to breathe. 

Hilda paused.

“She’s not with you?” But when the girl scanned the area, she found that the woman, in fact, wasn’t apart of their group. Her eyes widened at the realization, and sick feeling rose in Claude’s stomach. “Oh no.”

“We have to find her,” Claude mumbled, but both of them already knew. Hilda held his hands in her own, and she simply nodded and ordered for a search team for the missing hero.

But Claude already knew it in his heart. She was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of my absence, the one month anniversary of me posting this story passed four days ago which I'm in amazement by. I've never been one to actually follow through on projects or books that I write, so the fact that I'm still kicking a month later is extremely rare. I have you guys to thank for that. I didn't even expect anyone to read this fic when I began posting, but the support I've received is overwhelming. Thank you so much!


	8. A Leader's Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the death of one of his closest constituents, Claude is thrown into a mindset of self-loathing over his own faults. With no one willing to reach out to offer their aide, the tactician holds the burden of the last battle on his shoulders as the Alliance tries to figure out their next move without the wit of their charming leader. When Claude is about to make a detrimental decision, he receives the assistance of someone who's become an expert in these kinds of sacrifices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small ramble, but I finished my second Golden Deer playthrough, and it was great. I'm not sure if it's obvious, but I obviously have a preference. I'm currently starting a Maddening playthrough of Blue Lions which is definitely a mistake, but seeing as this story feels to be a mix of both routes, I'm attempting to gain a better grasp of the storyline. It's just so tiring trying to get through the beginning chapters, but it must be done (cue a sigh). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's definitely not as long as my last chapter, but it's longer than most and that's what matters.

There would be tales describing how hard Claude searched for a woman he’d already known to be dead. People would describe his expressions as sheltered, hopeful when he discovered a body, and then suddenly crushed when it wasn’t her.

They might also describe how reserved he became in the coming days. There weren’t any jabs or snarky comments on how she was playing a game by staying hidden. There were no sneaky schemes where he revealed where he’d hidden her during the attack, and the false smile he’d learned to showcase became a discarded memory as days passed. Had she been alive, she would have surely suffocated from the residue of the collapsed buildings, but no matter who tried to approach him, he would simply shake his head and continue digging. 

Some say he just wanted to find her body. He just wanted closure.

He didn’t have to look for long though. They found her on the third day. 

Her body was greyed from days of neglect and ash, and her jaw looked snapped open as if a rock had taken her out in one go. Her eyes were still ajar when they found her. They assumed that it had been an instant kill after that, and the nobles believed that their fearless leader would have finally gained the ending he so badly wanted, but when they turned to face him, he was already gone.

It was the first time anyone had thought they’d seen Claude von Riegan cry in public. 

The people declared him unfit to continue leading the resistance after the first week of inaction. They were still stationed outside of the abandoned fort—or what was left of it—and they didn’t seem to have any intention to go home. People were becoming restless after being surrounded by so many bodies, and the whispers of those that had passed carried throughout the night and haunted those that remained.

He proved them wrong. Despite his absence, Claude called for a cheerful retreat back to Derdriu where they would try and recalibrate and reconsider their next plans of action. When he came forward, his demeanor seemed to have returned, but the second his announcement was over, no one knew where to find him. Their backs were only turned for a few seconds, and he had managed to flee just like that. It was like he’d vanished back into his sorrows.

Despite the sullen mood that had washed over their leader, the people were overjoyed with their victory. They danced and smiled the entire march back, and songs were sung throughout the troops. Jokes became common practice among many of the younger soldiers, and they brought light to the situation. To them, everything was fine. They’d won, and in no time, the Empire would be bowing to their feet without hesitance. The war would finally be over. They could go home.

But Claude couldn’t find it in himself to be happy. Not after Judith. Not after he’d spent so long pushing her away. Not after he’d had so much left to do for her.

He blamed himself the most.

It was Claude who had devised the entire plan. It was Claude who had spent countless hours forging his ideas and tinkering away through the night to get his letters out. It was Claude who had put her as the leading general of the main army.

Why did he have to go off on his own to find a man he’d known to be deadly? It had been childish, but at the time he had simply believed that it would be safer to go alone. He could travel with ease, and it prevented others from getting in the way.

But that act of solitude had concerned too many to count—including her—and now she was gone. Now she was gone because he wasn’t with the group. Now she was buried six feet under because he couldn’t predict a javelin falling from Goddess knows where. Of course, no one truly expected him to have known that such a phenomenon would occur, but he had been stupid to think that Edelgard didn’t have tricks up her sleeves. She wouldn’t just allow him to take everything from her and let him roam free without consequences, and she’d done her part well.

Anxiety crept into the corners of his mind: what if the next plan got Hilda killed? What if Nader was caught in the crossfire of a bow and fell right before Claude’s eyes? What if Edelgard took it in the kindness of her heart to nuke Derdriu and extinguish his friends and family once and for all?

Claude had aspirations. He had dreams, but he had never shared the Fódlan ideology of dying for those dreams. He wouldn’t put his friends before his own achievements and allow them to die for him; it wasn’t right. There was always another way, wasn’t there? If push finally came to shove, he was fully willing to end the rebellion in a heartbeat if it meant the saving of the Alliance. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the what-ifs. When they’d taken her body away, he couldn’t bear to look into her open eyes. Maybe if he’d gone towards her? Could he have shielded her even in his injured form?

But there was no way he would have made it in time. On top of that, asking his only source of transportation at the time would have endangered them both. He couldn’t have managed if he’d gotten two people he cared about killed in the same sitting, but despite knowing of the worse consequences, he couldn’t stop beating himself up about it.

Maybe Claude truly was unfit for this position. He couldn’t make the hard decisions.

Once they arrived back at the capital, citizens lined up for him—desperate to speak if nothing more than a word to the man behind the plan. He was their beacon of hope. He had turned the tides of the long-awaited five-year war in the span of a few months by his mere wit alone, and now they would win. This was a happy time of celebration and feasts, and people danced in the streets—holding parades and luxurious balls to lighten the alleyways and hidden passages. Claude was supposed to be happy.

But he didn’t feel like it at all, and the energy he usually saved for keeping a mask over his expressions had been critically drained.

The cuts and bruises from the siege were easy to heal by Marianne, and she took care of wrapping anything deeper in bandaging. His right arm was slightly sprained, but that was the only damage that needed time to heal, and the time he’d been given was much shorter than the amount of time it had taken for his legs to heal.

The absence of the hero of the Alliance was expected at first. Soldiers assumed that the man was suffering from grave injuries after his fearless battle with one of the best generals of the Empire, so they gave him his space without much intervention; however, it didn’t take long for word to travel that he was simply just avoiding these events and that his “grave injuries” were actually just bruises and small cuts.

His friends tried visiting him in his isolation, but he usually sent them away with a small smile and a sentiment that he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’ll be back on my feet in no time. Wait for me until then, okay?”

It was the sweetest answer he could give them. It was the only answer he could give them without raising suspicion of his true feelings. Even if he couldn’t smile for his friends—he could at least guard himself enough to prevent unnecessary concern. They bought his story without resistance and left him to his thoughts; even Hilda kept her distance and took his place once more as a replacement of some sort. She had the charm for it, after all.

She still wasn’t him though. Her resolve was weak, and she would rather sit back and watch than argue for her beliefs. Her tongue was sharp, but it wasn’t persistent enough. He attended the meetings still, but his voice had become quiet as he watched her take charge and try to voice on what she believed he wanted. It was entertaining, but Claude found it hard to stay focused on the jovial attitude.

“After our last attack, I’m not sure we can spare any more reinforcements for the coming month,” a noble began to preach to the council, and they watched him with wavering glances.

“I’m afraid my situation is also the same. I will need time to prepare if you expect my help once more,” a congregation of voices spoke in agreement, and the bubbly girl sitting beside Claude sucked in a small breath—her eyes traveling to her friend for how she should handle the situation, but he was barely paying attention. She sighed at his newfound ignorance and stood to announce her presence.

“I’m sure our fearless leader would want us to move forward, though. Isn’t there any way you could spare just a few men?” Hilda beamed at them, but Lorenz who sat across the table from her shook his head for her to stop trying to charm them.

“They’re right, Hilda. That assault took a lot out of us,” he spoke, and she puffed her cheeks out at his rebuttal. “We’ll need time to recoup.”

“But we don’t have time to do that! The Empire is scrambling for resources as we speak. Wouldn’t it just be better to go all-in?” She whined at her former classmate, and his eyes wandered over to the man beside her. “We give it everything we’ve got, we charge Edelgard, and we win.”

“What does the head of House Riegan agree to?” The words were a challenge—a cruel one at that. It was something the Alliance leader would have taken in stride had he not been reduced to an indifferent pile of ash. He was no longer the kind of person that could steal a room’s attention. He was a killer and a traitor to a dear friend.

And he didn’t have time for this.

“Why don’t we adjourn this meeting until we can wrap our heads around this matter more?” Claude flashed a small smile as he threw his hand up to address that he had enough consciousness to fool around. The looks he received were diverse in the levels of confusion, but he attempted to not survey the room.

Surveying the room resulted in stealing a glance at the empty chair at the end of the table. A chair that would be filled if he hadn’t...

The thought flashed in his mind, and it took everything in him to not break at that very moment. It was like a ghost was following him around and surveying his every move, judging the ideas swarming his senses.

“But the meeting just began?” Claude had already stood from his seat and rushed out the room before the sentence had been completed; the remaining residents gawked at his abrupt dismissal. For a second, someone could have mistaken that the leader had never truly even been there consciously beside his pink-haired friend. It wasn’t as if his physical absence was much different than his spiritual lacking. The meeting didn’t change.

He didn’t have time to worry about whether or not he had the forces to attack Enbarr. That matter could be dealt with when he felt better, after all. He didn’t have time to fret over who liked him and who wanted him dead. In truth, he didn’t have time for anything anymore.

There was a tight hand around his throat—crowding his mind and replacing his thoughts with ones of sorrow and heartbreak. People died all the time, didn’t they? Claude would be a fool if he happily denied that people he cared for suffered daily, but something about this was different to him. He’d seen Judith rushing towards them for him and him alone through the rubble despite knowing what would become of her. She’d thrown everything away in hopes that she could save him.

He wished he could cry, but the tears didn’t want to appear as if that first day had been the last time they would make their presence.

That’s what Claude thought about as he lay in his bed after his departure from the meeting, eyes shut tight to resist looking at the bare ceiling. Didn’t he have every right to grieve? People were expecting him to be on his feet and ready to put his allies in danger once more, but could he do something like that anymore?

But the excuse that he was sick was growing old. He would need something else substantial to hold onto during his time away, but truthfully he wasn’t sure how reliable or a leader he would make in his return. Maybe it would just be better to...

Claude sat up in his bed with a jolt as his eyes wandered over to a stray bag in the side of the room: it was the perfect plan for someone like him. In fact, he wasn’t sure why he’d never thought of doing something like this before.

Claude had always been careful with his bonds to his allies—making sure to keep friends at an arm's length to prevent them from becoming too knowledgeable on his past. His departure may throw the Alliance into a semi-peril, but he’d already carried them so far. The end goal was so close. They could finish the job for him. They could make it to Edelgard without him.

There was a chance that his friends would be upset, but that was a second-hand thought to Claude. He was sure that they would learn to live a life without him. It wasn’t as if he’d given them any true reason to miss him unbearably. He’d worked so hard to find things out concerning their lives, and they knew almost nothing of him.

They couldn’t possibly trust him like that. They couldn’t trust him with their lives as if he was the kind of friend to ensure their survival. Obviously, he couldn’t keep someone like that a—

“What are you doing?” No one had visited him in so long, that Claude was positive that the voice was just in his head, but something about the way it bounced off of the walls alerted him. He turned and a small groan escaped his throat, low enough for Dimitri to hopefully mishear for a laugh.

“Hey! Your princeliness! How’s it been?” Claude kicked the bag he’d been stuffing with resources under the bed before turning to face his new guest with a smile. “You definitely look fuller. I trust that you’ve started eating more? Would it make you annoyed to say I’m proud?” Dimitri’s eye glanced down as if he hadn’t even noticed, but his focus was shaken back to the leader before him.

“What were you just doing? With the bag?”

“For someone with one eye, you sure are observant, aren’t you? Your wounds healed I’m guessing? I’m glad, I really am,” Claude chuckled at his own joke, but he refused to answer. He wasn’t sure how to respond to it, truthfully. “Is there something I can do for you? I trust that you didn’t just come to see me, your highness.”

“Is it so odd that I did?” Dimitri took a step inside, and Claude felt his nerves rising at every step the prince took into the room. The prince didn’t seem to notice his unwanted presence by the way he continued towards Claude, and the Alliance Leader attempted to put on his best face. “I just haven’t seen you since...”

“Since Fort Merceus? Trust me, friend. There’s no need to worry. I’ll be back on my feet in no time, and then we’ll head straight for Enbarr,” Considering what he’d been planning to do, the lie felt easy to spew. That was what he was best at, after all: goading to the interests of those around him to earn their favor. “You should go. I’m not the best company at the moment a—“

“You’re lying.”

“Huh?” Claude jumped at the accusation thrown at him; his hands slightly shook at such an abrupt blow to his confidence. “Your highness, I have to kindly ask that you don’t assume something like that. There’s no reason for me to lie.”

“It is easy to tell when you are not being truthful. Do not act like you are unaffected. You cared for that woman, did you not?” Judith. Of course, he’d picked up on his affections for the woman, but the idea of Dimitri being able to tear through his words so easily left him dumbfounded. “You have locked yourself up in here to hide from what happened, and now you attempt—“ he paused to bend down beneath the bed and yank the bag from its hiding place, “—to flee to run from your mistakes.”

There was a silence that followed, and the smile that had once been present on Claude’s face had faded into a quivering frown. He’d thought that he’d been so good at hiding things like that. Who knows how many others there were that knew of his feelings; who knows how many others were already thinking of ways to take advantage of them?

“I think you need to leave, Dimitri,” it was the first time Claude had felt so confused at the hand of someone else, but now that the problem was on the table, his head raced with ghosts that begged to tug at his heart—ripping his mind into two in order to demobilize him. 

“Do you truly believe that hiding in here will stop your sins? Will wherever you plan to flee halt the voices creeping in your mind?” Dimitri didn’t stop his pushing, and he tossed the bag to the floor where it had already been. Whatever small utensils that had been packed became scattered across the ground, but Claude couldn’t think about that.

“Dimitri, you’re crossing a line.”

“A line that needs to be crossed, it seems. You’re making reckless decisions. This will not work out in the way you intend for it to occur,” Claude narrowed his eyes at the prince to try and show his distaste, but it probably came off as a whimpering dog with his horrible ability to keep his emotions in check in the situation.

Dimitri towered over him, a method of intimidation, and Claude felt his breathing quicken from the confrontation. He couldn’t do this—not right now. Not ever.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m one of the only ones who can, Claude,” the leader winced at his distasteful comment before; it had skipped his mind that the prince had been in a similar state when they’d first found him. Still, when Dimitri noticed the lack of resolve on his face, he began once again, “There was a coup five years ago...”

“You don’t have to tell me. Everyone knows what happened that day,” Claude interrupted him, but Dimitri shook his head.

“...And I was to be killed at sunrise, but then my dearest friend, Dedue, arrived,” He paused to look into the distance of Claude’s room, and the Alliance leader gave him the second. It was a chance to catch his composure. “He gave his life for mine, all those years ago. He sacrificed himself to save me of all people.”

Dimitri’s eye focused back on Claude despite his struggle to continue the story, and his mouth pressed into a thin line at his newfound friend.

“For five years I have seen him in my dreams: He has been in my head screaming for revenge on those that killed him, and I have allowed him and others to consume me. They have driven me from army to army, and they even allowed me to have the strength to strike you on that day,” without even realizing, his attention flickered to his legs as if to make sure that Claude was standing upright. “They are still there, even now.”

“So you’re telling me that it’ll never go away. I’m sorry for your loss—I am—but this story isn’t helping, your highness,” Claude reached for the tossed sack and attempted to push past Dimitri, but the brute grabbed onto Claude’s arm to prevent him from escaping. “Dimitri, please.”

“I’m telling you that they’re still there, but I am not longer allowing them to control me as I did before. And that is partly because of you!” The proclamation took Claude aback, and he whipped his head to look at the prince. Finally satisfied that he managed to keep his attention, the grip on his arm faltered slightly. “I can not tell you that the guilt of your actions disappears. I think about what I could have done differently every day, and it kills me, but you?” Dimitri let his words die out, and he broke eye contact for a few seconds.

Claude almost believed that he wouldn’t finish the statement, but the prince straightened his posture and met his gaze once more.

“Had it not been for your saving, I would still be out there with a knife in my back by now. I would still be running from my sins, and my gratitude rests with you.”

“You’re exaggerating. I didn’t do anything,” he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to such a thing. No one had expressed their gratitude for him so openly before, and for someone who knew him so little as Dimitri, his mind was racing at the statement.

“But you did, Claude. You treated me as nothing different than one of those you call friends. You provided me with sanctuary despite what I did to you as if I’d simply given you a paper cut rather than crippling you for weeks. You gave me something to look out for rather than myself,” Claude knew he was shaking, and truthfully, something told him that he was imagining all of this. This was all a dream to cope with his desperate need for redemption, but the hold on his arm was proof that it was real. This was real. “No matter how common the phrase may be, you gave me a reason to live.”

If Claude tried to speak, he knew whatever came out would have been a discombobulated phrase, so instead, he let out a laugh. It was his first real laugh in a long time, and he couldn’t help the occasional tear that followed. Maniac gasps followed in between each chuckle—his sanity to anyone else would have looked as if it was dissipating.

Dimitri watched him laugh in awe until the joyful noise transitioned to a choking sob, and before either of them knew it, Claude was crying. Wet tears dropped down his cheeks for what felt like hours, and his breathing quickened to match the emotion sprawled on his face.

“Claude you are a wonderful leader no matter who is telling to otherwise in your head, and I couldn’t possibly be the only one who thinks that. Your friends trust in your abilities as do I,” Dimitri raised his hand slightly as if he was planning to reach out, but he paused to ponder if the action was appropriate. “That woman also believed in you, and she was willing to die for you. That was no one’s choice but her own. Her death does not determine who you are as a person, no matter how difficult it is to believe.”

Every possible thought that had crossed his mind since Judith’s demise was suddenly right in front of him, and they knocked into his sides and kicked his brain until he was nothing but a crying mess. His emotions flooded from every pore in his body, and the thought of looking like a fool seemed to vanish into the thin air as he continued to let out whines.

“You are the man who has prevented the Empire from gaining control of your territory, are you not? That is something I failed to do in my time as a leader. You are the man who when given nearly nothing was able to change the tides at Derdriu. You led a wonderful attack on Fort Merceus, and you saved me—a monster who simply could have killed you in an instant. You trusted me when no one else did, Claude. You’re a good person.”

Dimitri finally took the initiative to step forward and wrap his arms around Claude, and the leader was too frail from the lack of sleep to do anything in retaliation. He allowed himself to be taken into the embrace without protest, and his tears began to soak the shirt of his friend. Whatever sobs that had escaped his mouth were now muffled between the creases of his clothes.

“Please allow me to lend my shoulder to you. You do not have to deal with your ghosts alone.”

But Claude wasn’t sure if he had the capabilities to listen to what the prince was muttering under his breathe anymore. He was so overwhelmed with relief, and the bag in his hand tumbled to the floor. Soft cries soaked into the cloths covering his body—staining the material with wet patches. Dimitri didn’t comment on this though, and Claude didn’t expect anything different considering the unmannerly state the prince himself was usually in.

However, as the days grew longer and their time together extended, it was a sudden realization that Dimitri was generally... clean for once. There wasn’t a rare instance of blood etched across his face, his matted hair—while still filled with dirt—looked to have been tampered with as if someone attempted to run a brush in it, and his old armor had been removed in favor for fresh clothes: nice clothes in fact. They probably weren’t as elegant as the robes a king should be affiliating with, but they were free and smelled of newly cut grass and steam from the markets.

They smelled nice—nicer than Claude was expecting.

And the tone Dimitri held regarding his sentences was more structured as if for once he began to consider his words rather than emoting the first thing coming to mind. The way he carried himself was more refined—composed to an extent—and it was something Claude had failed to recognize at first. But now holding the prince in front of him, he came to realize all too quickly.

This was because of him?

...Or partly, but the idea alone was enough to overwhelm him. He’d gotten Judith killed. He was a foolish monster unfit to lead, but wasn’t Dimitri proof that he could do the impossible?

Perhaps that was too confident of him to think, and Judith was the perfect example how untrue such a statement was, but the closure of the future king in his grasp brought a sense of comfort to his mind if only for a few seconds to distract him from the torture he’d been enduring for the past few weeks. In those fleeting moments where they stood in his quarters, Claude allowed himself to think of things other than the fighting Alliance and the plans for the future. For the first time in months, Claude let himself focus on things that didn’t result in his trickery or schemes and rather in things he enjoyed.

Claude thought about Dimitri, and that alone confirmed the aspirations of a childish fool that he’d been pushing away. Feelings that he’d repressed finally sparked in his mind, and the Alliance Leader embraced them with open arms.

But their moment didn’t last long as a sudden cough emerged from the entryway. Claude was the one to separate the contact, and he peered around Dimitri to gaze upon one of the many guards in Derdriu who looked to be trembling at the sight. He didn’t want to deal with whatever he’d come to report. He didn’t want to go back out there if he could help it, but knowing that Dimitri was by his side cheering him on gave Claude the strength to fix his tears from his face.

He could do this.

“Sorry to intrude, but there’s some urgent business needing your attention,” the gatekeeper practically shouted the lines as Claude neared closer with another smile resting on his face. Although it wasn’t entirely true, he could bashfully admit that a part of it was genuine despite his state. Despite his undying urge to turn away from his position and take the supportive hand at his disposal.

“It’s okay. What’s going on?” His voice was still a little shaky, and he attempted to steady it before he addressed the guard once more.

“There appears to be a Kingdom Army closing in from the South.”

“What?” Throwing away the idea to appear more composed, his voice croaked at the sentence, and even Dimitri seemed to tense at the declaration. Of course he would. 

“Their numbers don’t look to be many, but I estimate that there are at least 300 men in their ranks with an unknown amount possibly stationed somewhere else,” Dimitri stepped forward—his movements mimicking the same he’d taken when he’d seen Claude at Fort Merceus for the first time: the steps of a man witnessing a ghost appear before him. Claude watched him out of the side of his eye, grimacing at the obvious wet stains in his shirt, and his body tensed. “They bear the Blaiddyd banner.”

“Nonsense. The only ones with that symbol are...” and despite having one eye, the eye he did have seemed to bulge from its socket. They shared a glance, and Claude quickly grabbed his cloak from a nearby chair to appear bulkier when meeting whoever was heading towards their location. Dimitri waited for him to prepare and the three of them quickly exited the room.

Goddess, he couldn’t do this right now, but he knew that there wasn’t anyone else who could. No matter how much of a terrible leader he was or how unreliable he was, Claude had kept up the stable Alliance front this far into the war. To have it fall because their famed leader couldn’t make it out of personal reasons would be detrimental.

Hilda met him halfway; an inquisitive look rested upon her round features as they paced to the entrance of Derdriu. She stole a glance at the prince who looked more determined than he had in a while and once more at Claude who seemed to have more personality in his step than usual. It didn’t take long for her to connect the dots, and she simply continued at the leader’s heels despite her grateful smile.

Multiple nobles came to greet him at his sudden appearance. It had been nearly impossible to even witness his presence before that moment, and seeing him walking towards the incoming army was inspiring at the least (although a few wouldn’t have minded that he stay cooped up forever).

Upon reaching the gates, Claude squinted into the distance, and well enough, soldiers of all sizes rode their horses and marched on their feet towards their destination. At the head of the army was the all too familiar crest to the waiting prince, and the brutes holding it high didn’t appear to be overly friendly.

It was time to do this again, he supposed. It was time to charm his way out of danger just like he had done before and just as he would always do. Claude was the Master Tactician after all. He might as well attempt to live up to his epic title.

But as they approached, an image of Judith popped in his head. It had been his cockiness that had gotten her killed, hadn’t it? His confidence in his fancy titles and silly schemes had taken her out, and was he sure he could bear something like that again? The death of a friend on his hands?

Something rested on his shoulder, and he didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Just the weight of the hand brought a sense of security to Claude.

He’d be ok.

There was a face that Claude hadn’t seen in numerous months leading the main army, and the scowl upon seeing the prince beside him was all too familiar to Dimitri. The man came closer on his horse, and once he was in a good enough distance, he dismounted and allowed the others to gather behind him. Another face—much more feminine with blonde hair—stepped forward from the crowd alongside what seemed to be an older version of the first person.

“I see you’ve been taking good care of something we want,” the first man began, and Dimitri squinted his eye to confirm the voice. Once he finally registered the soldiers, a grim expression fell upon his own.

“Felix? Rodrigue? Ingrid? What are you doing here?” Claude jumped slightly. The voice that came from the prince was something he hadn’t heard in years. It was one of a man with authority, and something about it reminded him of the boy from five years ago—it’s booming qualities shook his core. “Did you come alone? Where are the others?”

“That’s none of your business, boar—“ The older man held his hand up to silence Felix, and the swordsmen scoffed in disgust but obediently complied despite not wanting to. 

“They’re with us, your highness. We’ll take them to you once you come with us,” Rodrigue held his hand out and began to take a few steps forward, but some of the Alliance soldiers by the entrance readied their weapons at the lord with the intent to threaten him back to his original position. His eyes watched over the advance, and the corners of his mouth twitched in annoyance. 

“How did you find me?” Dimitri spoke once more, and Claude for once found himself to be quiet during a discussion he’d expected for himself.

“Would the lord of House Riegan allow us to take our prince back? We thank you for your hospitality, but...” his voice drifted off when he saw the expression on Dimitri’s face twist into something other than relief.

“You just arrived. Why don’t you come in for tea? Not to brag or anything, but the merchants here have the best leaves,” He shot them a smile to which none of them returned. That didn’t falter his confidence as he continued his talk. “The least you could do is allow us to talk in more suitable conditions. All of these empty threats don’t do either of our causes any good.”

“We don’t have time for that. Give us the boar, or our threats won't be empty for much longer,” Felix, who had been holding his tongue from insulting the prince, piped up once more. “You’ve had your fun, haven’t you? There is nothing to discuss.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you.”

Claude whipped his head at Dimitri who had a hard glare in his eye directed at his own army. Ingrid finally stepped forward despite the bows directed straight at her chest, and she reached out as cautiously as she could.

“Your highness, you aren’t in the right mind. We need to go home. Your people need you, remember?” Her voice was soft as if she was speaking to a lost child rather than the future king, and Claude wondered if this is what Dimitri had meant about him being treated differently. It looked to be so with the childish way they talked down to him. With their composure, it almost seemed like they feared that he would snap at any moment.

Claude guessed that the fear had been a genuine worry back then. Even in their earlier days, Claude had feared of saying certain things in case they triggered some sort of repressed memory within the prince and resulted in his back being snapped.

“I have made my choice. My loyalties reside with Claude,” despite their interaction before, Claude couldn’t help but refuse eye contact with Dimitri out of sheer embarrassment of such a statement. Claude’s home had never been like that in that sense. Loyalty had been a small factor, but in Fódlan it felt as if it was something to be worshipped. Such words in Almyra would have been meaningless, but coming from Dimitri’s mouth they meant so much more.

“Great,” Felix had no problem groaning at the situation, and the other two generals seemed to be at a loss for words at something so bold. “The boar has really lost it, hasn’t he? What did you do to him?” The question was directed at Claude, and the man jumped slightly at finally being acknowledged by the former classmate.

“Well, you heard him. He doesn’t want to go with you, and I think he can speak for himself.”

“He’s incapable of making that decision on his own. You don’t know him. You haven’t seen him,” Felix fired back, and his hand hovered over his sword, ready to wield it at any moment in case things took a turn. “I won’t be asking again.”

“Your highness, don’t you remember our plan? We have to take back the capital. Your people need you, Dimitri,” at the mention of the Kingdom citizens, Dimitri averted his eye to the ground to try and distract himself from what Rodrigue preached. Claude perked up at the coup, however, and a wider smile rested on his face despite the possibility of battle on the brink. Hilda, who stood beside him with her hands resting on the butt of her ax, eyed Ingrid closely; the woman seemed to be readying to burst through the gathering army at the entrance with her pegasus.

“You’re planning to take Fhirdiad, right? Why don’t we make a deal? In return for giving you your prince back, we’ll supply you with the required men to aide you in your attack,” His voice smoothed over any doubt he’d once held, and from an outsider perspective, it would have been impossibly to tell that he’d been grieving for the past few weeks and was completely out of practice.

“A deal requires your benefit too. What exactly do you get out of helping us?”

“Well, I’m not the biggest fan of the Kingdom falling to Edelgard’s rule, if you haven’t noticed. It would be an inconvenience, and...” He paused for dramatic effect to prolong his proposal, “In return for our support, I ask that the Kingdom as a unified entity return the favor by providing any necessary materials in raiding Enbarr and finishing this bloody war.”

“A treaty of some sort? I see...” Rodrigue mumbled under his breath, and one look at the prince told him that the proposition was one of his only options. Dimitri stood tall and unmoving, and he’d already stated his—to what Rodrigue believed—childish opinion. “I’m afraid we can’t offer our men until we retrieve the capital.”

“That’s why we’ll be taking Fhirdiad first.”

Hilda opened her mouth to protest the order. She’d spent so long assuming that Claude would have wanted a quick course of action, and she had fought daily for the nobles to approve. Now, the tactician threw all of her work away in an instant as if it was nothing to him. Before an exaggerated sigh escaped her mouth, Hilda quickly shut it despite her differing opinion and fell back in line beside him. She could talk in private about it later to scold his mental absence and not telling her that he didn’t mind waiting. So many weeks of work, and for what?

Chatter broke out among the soldiers dressed in blue, and they clumped together in a huddle of muted excitement that they would soon have their home back. It wasn’t hard piecing together that with the combined forces of the Alliance and the Kingdom working together that the takeover would be an easy feat, and once Faerghus was back on its feet, their unified armies would make Enbarr history. It was something they should have done from the beginning, but with a supposedly deceased prince and a scattered rebellion, it had been difficult to coordinate.

Dimitri brought people together. His influence was impactful on the hearts of those around them, and while many may not agree, Claude always found his presence to be reassuring. It was one thing for the tactician to get people to do what he wanted, but that was usually out of persuasion and greed. Dimitri got people to do things he wanted because of the strong sense of loyalty he instilled in his people. They didn’t do things for him because he had things to offer; they did things for him because they genuinely wanted to.

After a few moments of stilled silence, Claude assumed that he’d messed up once again, and the fear of the first blow came crashing into his figure. The hand resting in his shoulder had weakened, and with its weakness came the images of a similar action occurring but rather than being healthy, a dying version of his friends replaced the image. He couldn’t do it again. He refused to.

But then Rodrigue took a few steps forward with his hand extended to the Master Tactician, and an overwhelming feeling of relief flashed through his mind at the gesture. He met the touch a little too quickly but all the same, and the sounds of a displeased Felix and a delighted Ingrid filled his ears.

“From today until the end of the war, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus allies itself with the Leicester Alliance in a bond to ensure the victory of both of our nations against our common enemy,” each syllable ricketed in Claude’s heart as if something was pounding his insides around, and the smile on his face was no longer one for the sole purpose of appearance: it was real and motivated. “If your highness puts his faith in you, than I will do nothing more but to put that same trust in your abilities.”

They shook hands at the sentence, and a new heightened sense of adrenaline surged forth in Claude’s blood.

“Lets get started then, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter like three times, but especially Dimitri's speech. He talks so formal the more sane he gets that it's weird actually writing more than grunts and commands. I'll try and work on the next chapter faster than I did this one!


	9. An Unsettling Aching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans have been changed, and with the new partnership between the Kingdom of Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance, their next target is the Fhirdiad. Claude holds some concerning doubts as they continue forward, but he also hides hidden emotions that have begun to sprout with the absence of the famed prince. In an attempt to focus on the Alliance's next move rather than his trivial feelings, he fails to realize that his emotions may not be as well-hidden as once believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I don't really have a whole bunch to put in this note this time around. I just want to thank you all once again for leaving comments! I find it very interesting reading them all in my free time even if I don't respond (Especially the theories. Those make me very flustered). I hope you all are enjoying the story as much as I am writing it! This is possibly the longest I've ever actually stuck to a project, and I have you all to thank for that!

“You’re avoiding my question, Linhardt,” Claude sighed into his empty teacup and set it down on the side table to clean up later. The man in front of him carefully monitored his movements until the object was fully placed, and his eyes began to wander to the only other patient in the room. The other person appeared to be knocked out, and neither of them had any concerns that he would rise for another hour or two. “I’m trying to make this easier for the both of you, aren’t I? I would have been glad to ask Caspar instead if he were awake.”

“You and me both know that’s a lie. You waited for the exact moment that he fell asleep to come banging on our door. You’re not as sneaky as you want to believe, Claude,” Linhardt’s own cup was half full, but he seemed to have no intention of finishing it in the first place. “You expect me to betray the Empire? I could easily give you the wrong information, and you’ll lose everythin—“

“Then I’ll have no choice but to kill you,” it was an empty threat. Claude of all people didn’t have that kind of vindication in his heart to commit something so foul. He could, however, get someone with that maliciousness to carry through with the crime. It would weight heavy in his heart, but what Linhardt was considering would hurt him even more than anything else that was propositioned.

The statement was enough to stiffen the back of the mage, and he no longer wished to stare into the eyes of his captor but rather the floorboards of the building. He was a smart man, but Claude could only hope he wasn’t smart enough to see through his façade. 

“This is an impossible request. Those are my friends in the capital. You’ll be massacring my friends! The same ones you sat in class with five years ago. Does that thought not bother you?” His voice rose with his anger, and the fresh rage building under his skin spewed and desperately tries to escape. “You had the heart to save that monster roaming the camp, but when it comes to them, you turn your head? I suppose the rumors about the Master Tactician were true, after all,” the sentence was stretched out in a mocking tone, and Claude cringed slightly at such a petty insult.

“They chose their side. If they wish for redemption, I’ll gladly offer it, but if my mercy puts my people at risk, I will not hesitate to cut them down by my own hand if I have to,” It was a promise he intended to keep despite how much it pained him to utter something so cruel; however, that had always been his motto, and it would stay like that until the war was long paved into the history books of Fódlan. Only then could he possibly let his defenses down and hope for some sense of normalcy without the threat of power weighing his back.

His dream was so close he could almost taste it. If only he could just reach out and take it.

Linhardt clenched his cup in his hand so hard that it appeared he might break it if held for any longer, and Claude resisted the urge to make a joke about it.

“These aren’t even your people.”

“What?” Claude raised an eyebrow at that remark—confusion etched into his brain. His mind had to a fault started to wander to other matters than the one at hand. He’d been in the building for so long, the walls had started to bore him with their carvings and engravings, and the idea of finding something to snack on had begun to take the place of anything rational.

“Don’t think I didn’t do research on you in Garreg Mach, Claude. You’re not an easy person to find in the archives, are you, your highness?” Now it was Claude’s turn to tense up. It was a term he hadn’t heard in a long time when directed at him, and the iciness behind the words brought back one too many foul thoughts. Linhardt didn’t smile when he noticed his advantage though, but he instead finally took another sip of his tea. “I think it’s cute how you care so much for people who would outcast you if given the chance. Don’t worry, I don’t care enough to tell anyone. I haven’t spilled your secret all these years, have I?”

“Glad to know, but it feels like you’re still trying to avert the conversation, my friend. Why don’t you just answer my question?” Now his nerves were up, but he attempted to swallow his anxiety to keep his composure. He was still well out of practice, but the charm from before had slowly made its way back into his daily routine. “Will delaying our attack on Enbarr give her enough time to recoup? You were in her inner circle, so you know what she’s capable of, don’t you?”

Linhardt was quiet for a few seconds at the insistence, and Caspar seemed to finally be stirring awake by the occasional grunt he let out. They didn’t have time for this dancing back and forth, and Claude couldn’t help but feel weary now that he knew of what Linhardt knew. How the boy had figured out something so precious was beyond the tactician, but he would have to look into it another time.

Standing before Rodrigue, Claude had made the declaration that their first attack would be focused on the recapture of Fhirdiad, but after a few days of intense preparation, the worries of falling back into his leadership position began to tug at his mind. This was the perfect time to attack Enbarr despite their lack of forces. Would the month wait be enough time for the emperor to retaliate worse than before? Would they arrive at the capital only to be struck down by some trick in her sleeve?

The idea was bothering to hypothesize so early ahead, but Claude didn’t have time to worry about things he could stomach. 

“It depends.”

“It depends? I’m sorry, my friend, but after spending all this time talking to you, I’m not walking out of here with just that,” Claude wore a smile, but internally he was becoming annoyed with the behavior of the former general. Didn’t he understand the dire situation he was in? It would only take a second for his living conditions to change and for his medicine supply to be cut off, and it would only take a minute for Claude to order an execution (once he found the courage in his heart). If he was that kind of ruler, the former probably would have already been observed by now.

“She has strong allies. I’ve never seen them nor have I ever met them, but they’re beside her every action. If they recoup, then she’ll fire back at you worse than before,” Linhardt didn’t seem to be fully registering the fact that he was betraying the Empire with the strained look resting upon his face. His expression was tense and looked as if it would shatter at the smallest of contact. “But I wonder...”

“You wonder?” He just wanted to hear himself talk to make sure that what he was hearing was true. Who could have possibly allied themselves with the Empire. Dagda perhaps, but that was a weaker country that’s impact could never amount to much. Truth be told, there weren’t many lands that could be considered “strong” beside the Imperial Army.

“Well, I was just wondering why they’ve never used that technique from before on our enemies prior to Fort Merceus. Five long years and suddenly—nevermind. That’s all I’m telling you. Find another spy if you have to, but make sure it’s not me,” He turned his body away from the tactician as if that would block him.

Claude had way too many questions for their session to just be over like that, but he also had an itching feeling that pressing on would damage their weak alliance to silence. He knew boundaries and when to cross them, and this moment seemed like something he shouldn’t cross if he planned to keep the mage as an ally. They could debate more at a later date. 

He eased himself from the chair and collected their cups to put on a table further away. It was obvious Linhardt didn’t have the stomach to continue drinking his tea, and someone would probably be in to thoroughly clean the rest. The man stared at Claude with a cautious stance as if he would whip on his bow at any second and fire; the thought was fantasy considering Claude wasn’t even armed, but the mind of someone backed into a corner did wild things.

“Let’s try talking in more favorable conditions next time, okay? I’d love to hear more about your work on crests if you don’t mind,” He offered a small wave and ducked under the door frame and back out into the open air. He didn’t even wait for a response. It’s not like Linhardt had much of a choice on whether or not Claude came to visit.

Seeing the setting sun after spending so long in the hut grilling the boy was at most refreshing, and Claude took a second to soak in the fresh air around him. It was the fifth month of the year, and the temperature was only growing with each passing day. Especially in Alliance territory where the heat seemed to be smoldering at best. It was something Claude didn’t mind in the slightest, and he even took comfort in the change considering his mild roots.

However, one look at the Faerghus guests spoke volumes at how they were taking the situation. Even now with Sylvain trotting towards Claude, the usual calm and suave man looked more desperate than usual.

The armors they bore were tossed within the first few days for loose shirts and lighter scarves, and compartments carrying their water were now essential to their everyday apparel if they were to survive in Derdriu. It only took another week after their arrival for the hairs on their heads to begin to curl from sweat gathered after long hours of labor, and many of the soldiers could only train for an hour or so before they demanded a break to regain their composure.

To Claude and everyone else, it was amusing to observe.

But it wouldn’t be long before those same soldiers found joy in watching the Alliance soldiers suffer through the cold winds of the Kingdom capitol. Claude has heard one too many rumors of the harsh snow storms that plagued the lands, and he wasn’t one to give in to false stories, but a part of him was already shivering when he realized that he didn’t have much to cover up with. It would be a shame for the Alliance leader to freeze to death trying to play the part of a hero.

Sylvain finally met up with Claude, and the suspicions from before were confirmed. The charmer was panting too much for his own good, and his face matched the fire red of his hair. Still, his smile contradicted his condition. The two of them continued walking side-by-side.

“Finding you is impossible, Leader Man. You’re like some sort of snake,” His voice was drawn out too, and Claude really wished he wouldn’t walk as close as he was. 

“Well, you found me! What can I do for you? Do the Kingdom knights need some assistance? Run out of food? You look like you could use some water,” it was a joke, and for once someone laughed at it no matter how fake said laugh was. At the mention of something to drink, Sylvain reached into his pouch and pulled out a flask and began to chug whatever was left inside of it. Claude doubted it was alcohol if the knight knew what was good for him, and considering the fact that he didn’t look out of his mind, Claude could assume it was just water.

“Actually, your Highness was looking for you. When he couldn’t find you, he asked Felix, but of course you and I both know how that ended. Then he asked Mercedes to find you, but she was busy. He asked Annette but she’s so clumsy that she kept bringing back the w—“

“So basically you were his last choice?” Claude chuckled at that, and Sylvain nodded his head with a sigh. “What did he need?”

Sylvain pouted his lip out to think, and a look of horror ran across his face after a few daunting minutes of pondering.

“I actually don’t remember, haha. I’m sure it was something important, though,” Claude shot him a look to convey his disappointment at the forgetfulness, but he chalked it up to his own absence and let it go unnoticed. “Where are you heading, so I can tell him where to check?”

“He’ll know where I am if he wants to find me. I have work to do,” Claude let out another laugh as he took a sharp turn to head back to the dorms. Sylvain let out a gasp at the answer, and he seemed to hesitate on whether or not to follow.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you!” Sylvain finally settled on a shout as the leader left him in the middle of the street, and the knight spun on his heel to head back to wherever he was staying.

Claude was good at hiding what he truly felt, and he’d done a perfect example of that while walking with the former academy student. He’d kept composed and mischievous while keeping his mysterious undertone.

But in reality, when he’d heard that Dimitri had been looking for him, something inside of him seemed to ignite. It was an abnormal feeling to experience especially in his position, but Claude wasn’t a fool to try and ignore whatever he was experiencing; however, he couldn’t outwardly show his happiness when Sylvain had announced the interest. What would the knight be led to believe if Claude has allowed himself to smile at the notice?

Ever since his loyal friends had arrived at the entrance of Derdriu, the future king had been swept away left and right without much interference from the Alliance leader. He’d always known that one day Dimitri would rectify his past and take his position among his people, and now Claude would be helping him regain his rightful throne. It felt right out of a fairytale, and seeing the transformation of what used to be a feral beast made the fantasy all the more unbelievable.

He attended council meetings with his friends who still seemed weary of his behavior. He even sometimes spoke up and provided input on the next plan of action—even though Claude could sense that it made the prince slightly uncomfortable to throw himself so readily into his work. In times like those, Claude made games in his head to try and figure out what Dimitri was trying to address, and once he did, he would try and take over with the information he had to ease the anxiety from the inexperienced prince. Sometimes he was wrong, but the look he received when he happened to be right put the tactician in a bright mood for the rest of the day.

It was hard to catch a glimpse of him outside of the meetings, but sometimes Claude would be walking with Hilda when suddenly he recognized the gruff tone of the prince commanding his soldiers—his tone louder than someone would normally use. With a little more snooping, he could sometimes even get a peek at him from afar, and it took everything in him not to call out for a small chat.

It wasn’t as if Dimitri had directly told Claude to keep his distance, and if anything, his attitude suggested the opposite. If he ever happened to catch the eye of Claude, he didn’t seem opposed for a chance to catch up, but Claude knew better. They both had their own people to lead now, and he couldn’t just allow the future king to clip at his heels as he had before. Those were different times.

That didn’t mean that Claude didn’t miss the constant company by his side. Talking to the feral prince had usually been one-sided, but he had truly listened to whatever he said with relative curiosity—unless the stares of interest had all been in the tactician’s head. It was less lonely to say the least.

But he couldn’t let those feelings get in the way of his ultimate goal, so the sacrifice was necessary for the time-being. His friends had seemingly noticed the absence as well with their constant joking, and Claude often laughed with them. 

Hilda was the most relieved, after all. When she realized that Dimitri wouldn’t be present every time she wanted to talk to him, she had practically done cartwheels around the city. Without him there, her mouth moved miles a minute with complaining and teasing, and he allowed her to replace the spot by his side.

For someone who had always seemed to fear the prince, Marianne didn’t express much relief by the disappearance. In fact, she almost appeared disappointed that he wouldn’t be joining them for his check ups anymore, but she tried not to show it too much. Ignatz was also another participant who seemed to sigh in annoyance when he realized Dimitri wouldn’t be around as much anymore, but Claude didn’t bother questioning him about it.

He made his way to his room with a sigh—finally relieved to be somewhere where he could rest for a little bit. He hadn’t grabbed anything to eat on his way in, but he could probably go out before the moon rose if he was truly that desperate.

Only if the workload he’d put on himself went by quickly. If not, he’d just have to suffice until the morning. Some time alone was exactly what he needed.

But when he entered, he realized that he wasn’t alone at all.

“Dimitri? What are you doing in my room? Sylvain said you needed me, but...” Claude eyed the prince seated on a chair beside his desk, and Dimitri’s head snapped upwards at his voice. He looked to have been asleep on the table—the sides of his hair stuck to his cheeks, and a line of drool was pooled on the surface which he quickly tried to wipe away. His face transitioned colors from its normal pale complexion to one with a redder tint, and it took strength to not let out a laugh at the stumbling prince in front of him.

“I—uh... This isn’t w—no!” He seemed at a loss for words and the scuffle caused a pile of books to go tumbling to the floor. When he realized what he’d done, Dimitri reached down to pick them up, but his elbow bumped into a drawer. The sheer force of the bump slammed it shut, and any papers peeking from the container were crumpled. 

“Don’t tell me you just came to break my room, your princeliness. I appreciate the vindictive nature, and I humbly apologize for hiding your coat last week, but this is a little far, isn’t it?” Claude stepped forward to assist in picking up the notes—a smile threatened to appear on his features.

“No, you m—you did what?” Dimitri glared at him, but whatever look of intimidation he was trying to portray was utterly ruined by the hairs clinging to his drool-stained face, and Claude finally couldn’t hold himself back from expressing his joy. “You did that? I was looking for my coat for hours. I—that doesn’t matter. I apologize for making a mess.”

“I’m just joking with you, Dimitri,” Claude put the papers back where they were, and he reopened the drawer to reshuffle the documents inside. He was a little embarrassed by how messy his room was, and a part of him wished that he’d cleaned up a little more before expecting company. Not that he’d expected this, of course. “Even though you are messing it all up. Do you want some tea?”

“Tea? No, I’m...” Dimitri looked dazed from the sudden surprise still, and he brushed the few strands sticking to his face aside as if they’d prevented him from concentrating. “I’m fine, thank you. Uh—where were you?”

“Talking to our guests. I just had some questions to ask them. I’m honored that your highness seems to be so concerned of my whereabouts though. A little birdie told me that you’ve basically asked all your friends to go looking for me. Is there a reason?” Claude tried not to pay too much attention to Dimitri out of fear that he’d end up looking for too long, so he instead acted interested in his bow pinned up on the wall.

When Dimitri didn’t respond, Claude took a peak as to what the prince was doing, and he was shocked to see the man pull out a bowl from his satchel which had been perched on the chair. He held it out, and Claude reached forward to take it.

It was mixed rice with bits of an unknown meat in it, and something that looked like potato—oh.

It was the same rice Claude had forced Dimitri to try.

“What’s this for?” Claude was still staring at the dish in his hands; the entire idea that he’d remembered the food brought a sentiment to the gift.

“I assume that you have not eaten? It’s for you. Do you not like it? I remember you enjoying it a month ago, did you not?” Dimitri let out a nervous chuckle, but the man before him could easily tell that he was hiding his anxiety over if Claude actually liked the meal. “I would have asked your friends what you liked, but I was scared that I would miss you.”

“Miss me? Where would I go?”

“You ask too many questions for my liking. You have yet to answer my own,” it was a statement sparking annoyance, but the expression the prince wore showed everything but ill intent. Claude took his insistent nature as an indirect order to try it, and so he did despite the watchful audience.

It was cold, of course, after hours of sitting in the bag, and the warm yogurt made the rest of it taste a little odd, but he enjoyed it. It was a little awkward eating it with Dimitri staring at him so intensely, but he’d grown used to the prince’s attention.

“So?”

“It was horrible. Truly the worst thing I’ve ever had in my entire life,” The smile on Dimitri’s face fell, and he looked towards the ground.

“Ah, so I misunderstood? I was so sure that you liked this, but it seems I w—“

“Pick your chin up, your highness. I’m just kidding. I loved it, but I’m still wondering what’s with the sudden concern?” He set the empty plate on another table in the room and turned back to see Dimitri looking at him with a look of relief. The prince sighed, and the bashful smile from before returned. “Are you trying to butter me up, your highness? I have to admit that you’re on the right track,” 

“Am I? That’s reassuring, I suppose.”

“Is it now? I was only joking, you know. Is there anything else you need? Did you just come to deliver that to me because I’m sure one of your friends could have done the job much faster,” Claude plopped on his bed and rested his head in his hands. He had work to do, but meetings like this had become rare, and a part of him no longer wanted to do anything at all.

“I just assumed it would be nice to see you, that’s all,” Dimitri turned better in the chair to better look at his host, and Claude suddenly felt self-conscious at the face-to-face confrontation.

“You see me basically every day at the meetings, don’t you? That’s usually plenty of time to gaze upon my charming face,” He twirled his hand around his face to showcase his smile, and Dimitri simply shook his head at the notion.

“I meant alone, Claude. You know exactly my intention,” there was a hint of frustration in his voice, but Claude chalked it up to how tired he appeared. “I just wished to talk for a bit. No other reason is required.”

“Well, I’m all yours—until someone else needs me—so what do you want to speak to me about? I’m guessing you came with an idea of what you wanted to talk about?”

There was a small silence that filled the air between them as Dimitri supposedly thought about something he wanted to start a conversation on, so Claude found amusement in fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Even though he’d said it, he truly didn’t want anyone to come for him for awhile. It was fine with just the two of them, but the thought of being left alone for very long was too much of a wishful fantasy. This time would pass eventually, and then they would go their separate ways.

But for now, Claude could enjoy the company.

“What do you plan to do once the war is over?”

“Jeez that’s a loaded question, don’t you think?” But Dimitri was avoiding staring at him, and his ears seemed to have faded into a light pink to convey his emotions. Claude attempted to ignore the reasoning behind the sudden mood swing, and he tapped his finger on his lap. “I’ll continue on with my dream, of course. I’m still far from completing it, and this war definitely isn’t helping it, but it’s so close.”

“What is your dream, Claude?” There was that look again: vulnerable and inquisitive as if everything Claude said was the most interesting thing he’d ever heard. It was honestly an embarrassing look to be at the receiving end of, and the tactician found himself at a loss for words.

“I—uh—I just have a dream, I guess. I have a vision of everyone living in houses and enjoying feasts and coming together,” he paused to make sure Dimitri was listening, and he was met with the same upfront expression. “...but it’s people from Fódlan and Almyra and Dagda and beyond. They’re enjoying themselves in the presence of each other without the barriers of generalizations holding them back, and they’re trading together without wars and false stereotypes keeping them down... it probably sounds like some pipe dream to you.”

“Quite the opposite, actually! Do not put your ambition down so easily. I admit that I have wished the same for some time now,” Dimitri shut his eye for a second and sighed into the air between them. “Dedue was from Duscur, and for all our time together, he was never treated with the respect a man like him deserved. I know him to have liked cooking and gardening, and he never did anyone wrong; yet everyone still treated him with such disdain.”

He went quiet for a few more seconds before opening his eye once more and shaking his head to remove whatever idea he’d been plaguing himself with.

“I have promised him to restore Duscur one day. I want to see these senseless reservations for outsiders torn down after the war. It’s the least I can do to revive his memory,” Claude had never interacted much with Dedue outside of the occasional greeting. There were times where Claude and Dimitri would have been holding a conversation together when suddenly the companion appeared at the prince’s side. The former house leader had been more or less been intimidated by his stoic impression, and Dedue had never shown interest in those outside of the Blue Lions unless they intended harm.

But he sounded like a wonderful person despite having never shown that consideration to him.

“Continuing on, do you plan on finding these dreams with someone?” Claude snapped back to the conversation, and it was his turn to turn a slight shade of red at something so blunt.

“What?”

“It is only a question, Claude. Should I be more clear with what I am asking? Is it in your interest to take a hand in marri—“

“I didn’t need a clarification, Dimitri,” by now, Claude was choking on his own spit at such a declaration, and Dimitri stood slightly to come pat his back; however, the fear of what his strength would do to him gave Claude the strength to wave him away. “Why are you so interested in something like that?”

“I’ve heard Annette talking about it to Mercedes, and I could only assume that a topic such as this was normal. Am I wrong? Does it make you uncomfortable?” But Claude held suspicion in the way Dimitri stumbled on his words when coming up with the excuse.

“You’re fine, Dimitri, but warn me next time? It’s not every day that the soon-to-be king asks you if you want to get married one day, is it?”

“You do not have to answer I suppose. It was very sudden of me, and it is none of my business. It is just hard not to be curious,” the pitiful pout he gave was hard to resist, and Claude found himself having a hard time dodging the question.

It wasn’t like he’d never flattered the idea of getting married one day in his head, and as a boy he’d day dreamed of intertwining his trust with another for the rest of his life—the concept was too enticing to not imagine. Still, he’d grown up from such boyish explorations, and overtime, it was hard to imagine a life for himself where he could fully place his faith in another without the fear of manipulation on the horizon. To not have to play a part and just be... himself? Something like that had become impossible to him.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to get married though. Even if it was a silly idea to imagine such a future for himself, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander when he saw the ring on Ignatz’s finger as if it was his own. What person would he be to just be completely at peace with the idea of spending his ambitions alone? 

“I can’t say I’ve never thought about it, but isn’t that the case for everyone? You never know what can happen from now until the end of the war, can you?” 

“I understand. It’s not an easy concept to just predict, but it is still nice to think about. For me at least, I can’t help but wonder about it too much for my own good. Felix says I’m bound to get myself killed like this. Of course, he always says that but...” Dimitri chuckled as he allowed himself to ease further into the chair, and his eyelids dropped slightly. He looked worn out, and it was expected after five years of doing nothing but wandering instead of leading. He wasn’t equipped for this. 

“Don’t tell me my guest of honor has someone in mind? No need to thank me for bringing you here, then. I’ll accept your payment in winning this war,” Claude teased with his hands above his head to stretch. He was becoming tired as well, and the work he’d been planning to indulge in would probably have to wait until tomorrow. 

“Perhaps, but I am still unsure of how they feel. I fear that I may not live up to their expectations.”

Claude nodded with a sympathetic understanding even though his heart felt as if it was being tugged down.

“I’m sure whoever you’re talking about would be happy to have you, my friend,” Claude covered his face in his hands to hide whatever discontent was beginning to crack through his exterior, and he let off a small whisper, “...as would I.”

But Dimitri didn’t ask him to repeat. He didn’t say anything, and Claude suddenly feared that he’d been heard; however when he moved his hands, he realized that the silence was because of something else entirely.

The prince had closed his eye completely, and his breathing patterns had shifted to ones with a calmer rise. A small and almost unnoticeable snore emerged from between his lips, and a sense of relief flooded Claude’s senses that his words hadn’t been heard—his nerves eased with each breath.

He wasn’t sure if he should wake the brute up or allow him to sleep, but something told him that bothering him would startle him in the same way he’d been disrupted upon Claude’s arrival. On top of that, he’d probably just leave if woken up and go back to whatever duties he’d been ignoring. Could he still have a heart if he sent the future king back to his subjects in the tired state he was in? It wouldn’t hurt to let him slumber for the time being, and if no one had come for him yet, they were doubtful to arrive at this time of night.

It was just like before.

Claude realized that he’d probably have to lend the prince one of his covers, and so he stood to prepare them. He only had one despite his status, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to sleep without one. It wouldn’t be impossible, and it wasn’t incredibly chilly with summer approaching faster and faster.

He could get one from Hilda. That woman slept with more pillows and covers than he could count. Surely she wouldn’t mind lending him one for the night. Of course, she would have thousands of questions as to why he’d lost his first one, and he would be able to come up with a quick excuse on the spot if he started scheming ahead of time.

He wished he could move Dimitri on the bed, and Claude would just take the chair, but he was far too heavy to even think about lifting. It wasn’t that Claude was weak, but he’d probably cause too much of a disturbance and end up waking his guest in the process. Keeping him in the chair was his best option, and Dimitri looked decently comfortable with his head peaking out from the cover that his host had draped over his body. He looked relatively peaceful sitting like that.

Claude finally moved from his side and went to the door. His hand rested on the knob for a few lingering seconds before he finally exited the quarters to seek out Hilda who he could only hope was still awake.

Once he was gone though, a restful Dimitri peeked his eye open—the expression on his face unreadable. His attention scanned to make sure his host had left, and once he realized that he was alone once more, the prince buried his head into his arms and smiled to himself. For a man who was supposedly so tired he could pass out, the joy residing in his heart ignited, and he clutched the blanket tight in his hands.

By the time Claude came back, the prince had closed his eyes once more, but the smile present on his face stayed hidden beneath the cloths wrapped around his body.


	10. Taking Over the Kingdom Capital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a backup team in place, Claude recruits the help of some of the most skilled generals to help him overtake Fhirdiad. After interrogating one of Edelgard's most trusted mages, he believes that he knows what to expect in the coming battle, but once arriving in the capital, the Alliance leader is quick to find out that the emperor has more tricks up her sleeve than first anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, if I did the math right... It's been 14 days since I last posted. This might be wrong, and it might be more. If it's more, don't tell me. I don't think I could live with myself if it ended up being longer. I had a lot of difficulty writing so many battle scenes in one chapter because they're not my strong suit, but this fic is a good opportunity to expand upon that! I ended up rewriting this chapter way more than I should have, and somehow it became 11K words. Definitely my new record. Considering that, once this is posted, the word count should be around 62K words! Wow. I hope you're all still excited to keep reading, and I'll see you hopefully in less than 14 days!

“This is foolish.”

“My best plans are usually the ones that people tend to disagree with, isn’t that right, my dearest friends?”

“As one of your ‘dearest friends’ I am once again denying that statement. I can not believe that the others happily agreed to your rambling. If I were t—“

“But you aren’t them, Lorenz. You were overruled. Can you please be quiet for longer than five seconds?” Claude held his hand out to shush the nagging noble, and he held his bow in the other with a tight grasp. Hilda stifled her laughter from the raging man behind them, and she focused on anything else to prevent herself from letting out a snort.

Lorenz let out an exaggerated sigh as they ducked behind a projection of the wall, but he complied for a few seconds before returning to his bitter mumbling. Behind him crouched Felix who looked as if he was beyond the point of control, and his sword looked angled too close to the noble’s neck in front of him. If they didn’t know better, they would assume that he was preparing to slice it off clean, and honestly Claude wouldn’t be too opposed to the idea.

Beside Claude was Dimitri, and peeking over his shoulder was a curious Mercedes. The woman had insisted on tagging along with the soon to be king to keep him in good health, and Claude hadn’t put up much of a fight. She was generally well-mannered besides the occasional sadistic comment hidden under thick layers of a sweet voice, and she happened to be the only healer besides Marianne that was well-trained enough to be able to preform quick recoveries on the battlefield.

Marianne had been a little doubtful to stay behind in Derdriu while her friends made the journey to the Kingdom Capitol, but she submitted to Claude’s cheap persuasion fairly easy. She had been tasked to stay back in case Linhardt’s hunch had been incorrect and Edelgard decided to strike. 

It would have been silly to remove all of their forces from the area.

“I wish there was a way we could get in contact with Annie and Sylvain. I hope they’re okay over there,” Mercedes mumbled into her handkerchief, and a small noise of agreement rose up from the small group. They continued forward beside the border—looking for a secure entry point to corner around the back. “Would it have been so bad if they had come with us?”

“Consider it a good thing Sylvain of all people isn’t here. That idiot would have surely blown our cover with his obsessive rambling,” Felix gripped his sword tighter than before, but his face expressed the opposite of his tense posture. He nudged past Lorenz and Mercedes to make his way closer to Dimitri and Claude before finally settling on keeping step behind Hilda; the girl seemed mildly uncomfortable with his eyes glaring into the back of her head. “Besides, Claude said they couldn’t come, and everything he says goes, right?”

Claude gave the swordsman a sneaky smile at the taunt. It was obvious that Felix also wasn’t the biggest fan of cornering around the back and trying to confront Cornelia, but the council had agreed with him in an alarming majority that it was the right move. She wouldn’t be expecting them to come from behind, and if she did, she certainly didn’t expect the prince to be accompanying them.

Claude had never truly met with the woman before, but he’d always intended to spark some sort of deal one day. She seemed distant from the Empire as if their favor wasn’t truly what she fought for, and Claude could only assume that there was a chance he could have swayed her loyalty to the Alliance if only for long enough to overthrow her rule.

But now with Dimitri and the other Kingdom soldiers in the equation, they thirsted for her blood it seemed. While the prince didn’t hold the same crazed look he may have held once before, the mention of Cornelia alone made his blood run cold; there wasn’t any chance that she would live to see another day if he had any part in it. Who was Claude to stop him from fulfilling that want?

Of course, Felix had been quick to give everyone his input during the meeting that Claude was an adolescent fool and... other unnecessary phrases had spilled from his mouth before Dimitri had finally grabbed him with one arm and forced him outside until he learned how council meetings worked. It had been quite a sight, and the outburst had only increased support for the plan. The Kingdom soldiers showed discontent as well, but none of them wanted the same treatment of being dragged out of the room as their general had experienced, so they took to more passive ways of persuasion which Claude was quick to shoot down.

He understood the concern. Before when they had been absent from the scene, no one truly cared what the Alliance leader did with the prince. For all they were concerned with, he could dump his body in a river, and it would simply be an accident. Now with his friends in the equation, they didn’t want their future king to separate himself from his battalions and put himself at risk with only a small group.

Therefore, some of their top generals had risen their hand to tag along. Hilda had been completely opposed to the idea of not having her readily able back-up to fill-in for her, but Claude had argued with her on the issue for so long to the point where he had to force his hand and demand that she accompanied them. Despite her lazy methods, she was an excellent fighter with her axe, and she would provide beneficial in the close combat.

Felix—after having his feud—had grudgingly approached him and practically threatened his safety if he wasn’t given the chance to follow, but Claude hadn’t intended to restrict him in the first place. The man was brilliant in his swordplay, and he seemed to stick to Dimitri’s side like glue in Derdriu despite his constant complaints.

Lorenz was much the same in that regard, and he’d dragged his feet to the tactician in the late hours of the night informing him that he’d be joining the team (to make sure he didn’t screw it all up, of course). Claude knew that in the moment he’d given the noble an unsavory glare and a vulgar response to leave him alone, but he’d been glad that his friend wasn’t so opposed to the plan that he wouldn’t contribute at all.

“I’m sure Claude had a good reason for the decision. Perhaps traveling in bulk would have alerted our enemies faster,” Dimitri placed his hand on Felix’s chest to ease him back, and the warrior shook him off in disgust that he’d allowed the prince to even make the motion to touch him. The cold attitude didn’t bother Dimitri though, and he continued stepping in sync with the others without missing a beat.

“Ding ding! You could learn a thing or two from your highness, Felix!” Claude perked up with a chuckle, but his joy ended quickly once he felt a boot connect with his leg. He whipped his head around, and Felix appeared to be looking the other way as if he hadn’t been the one to kick the leader. “Real mature.”

“If I have to deal with a bunch of boys arguing this entire time, I’ll just start screaming so Cornelia can come and kill me herself!” Hilda groaned as she leaned slightly on the border walls, and Mercedes watched her with a soft smile present on her face.

The bricks underneath her moved, and the girl went tumbling backwards into the grass. When she rolled to the side, Claude examined the area she’d previously been in and pat it a few times to confirm that it was a weak spot in the architecture and therefore it was the place least likely to be checked. If soldiers frequented the area they would have noticed the faulty.

Despite their budding rivalry, Felix nodded at the tactician and pulled a strip of rope from his bag. Their thick coats from before had been piled back on their bodies, and on the way there, the Kingdom soldiers had laughed at the shivering Alliance mercenaries. None of them had expected such a freezing climate despite warmer months approaching, and even now, they clung to any sort of warmth they could find.

However, it was far too embarrassing to ask them for coats, so they simply took a habit of huddling together.

The rope had a hook attached to the end of it, and Felix tugged it twice to make sure it was firm. He’d prepared it the day before once he’d been accepted, and the man had worked tirelessly to prepare for the battle ahead as if it would be his last. It was an interesting sight to witness considering their chances of winning, and when asked about it, he’d simply clammed up and shut the door to his temporary room.

Once the reliability of the tool was ensured, Felix tossed one end of the rope over the wall until it connected with a gap in the stone. He pulled with his weight to see if it would let l—

The end came flinging back with a single tug and whacked Lorenz right in the chest. 

The nobleman let out a gasp as it bounced right off of his armor, and Hilda bust out in a fit of laughter which Claude had to remind her to calm down. Felix would have looked unbothered by the situation if it weren’t for the tips of his ears that seemed to have gained color with the impact, and he muttered a quick apology before trying once more.

This time the hook made a firmer connection with the wall, and when Felix tugged at it once more, it stayed in place. He looked back at the group for confirmation before taking hold of the object and beginning his climb.

Once he reached the top, he seemed to duck his head instantly, and everyone on the other side equipped their weapons—ready to climb up after him and attack anyone who happened to injure him. However, whatever caution that the general had taken before the incident was thrown out the window as he hopped the rest of the way down; the last noise from him being a small grunt.

Claude eyed the spot where he’d once been in disbelief, and he wondered if it would be okay to call out for him at a time like this. Surely he wouldn’t have just ditched them entirely in a time like this? He was Dimitri’s friend (or that was what it had sounded like in their Academy days), but the anxiety bubbling in his chest couldn’t rely on the trust of one person.

“Come. Now.”

They shared looks between each other at the reappearance of Felix’s voice, and they wondered if they should wait and see if they hadn’t misheard.

“I can’t climb back over there! Come over here, now!” His voice was more persistent, and Mercedes took the first step towards the rope. In her dress, she had difficulty holding on, and Lorenz stepped forward to ease her stress until she too disappeared over the wall.

One by one they took turns securing their entry into the city, and Dimitri took the rear in case someone were to attack in that moment. He could take a hit better than any of them, after all.

“One more second, and I would have assumed that you all had been replaced by rocks. Don’t you know how to follow orders, or are you all so blinded by Claude’s decisions that you fail to hear anything e—“

“Felix,” Dimitri no longer held a jovial tone, and instead his voice had deepened as if to give his friend a warning on the next thing he chose to say. Felix was stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot. He closed his mouth immediately and began unconnected the hook from the wall so that they could continue.

But there was an unsettling creaking emerging from their left, and the group instantly turned their heads to investigate the noise further. There was no way that someone could have already predicted their arrival, but perhaps they had made too much noise.

Claude led the search for the noise, and he stood in front of them all with Failnaught in one hand and another hand readied behind his head to retrieve an arrow. The light-hearted mood from before had completely dissipated was they neared closer, and with one turn around the corner...

There were two soldiers heading straight for them, and they were approaching fast. Claude waved his hand to fall back slightly, but it would have been too easy to have hoped that it would go smoothly. Hilda in her back-step tripped over a piece of the road—alerting the guards instantly. In her fall, the rest of the group continued to back up towards Mercedes who quickly casted a charm to disguise them.

“Hey! Who are you?”

Hilda stuttered under their gaze, and Claude readied his bow to fire if needed behind the illusion. He hated the idea of spilling more blood than needed, but he wasn’t going to willingly allow them to strike his friend down with him watching only a few inches away. He wasn’t going to allow another Judith to occur right before his eyes as he had done before.

“Just kill her and get it over with. You heard what Lady Cornelia ordered, didn’t you? Kill all intruders on sight,” the other one readied his sword to wound her, and Claude began to pull at the strings; however, a hand rested on his shoulder to ease him back. It was Dimitri.

“I don’t think you’ll want to do that!” Hilda let out a shout as one of the guards began to bring their weapon down on her body, and they paused at that.

“And why not?”

“I happen to be very close with the Alliance Leader, yeah? I can tell you anything you want! I happen to know what he’s planning. Don’t you want to know all about it?” Hilda gained a bit of confidence at the hesitation, and her mouth seemed to work on its own—coming up with a lie to save her life.

The guards shared a look for a few seconds as if they were contemplating her story. Claude wasn’t sure if the Goddess could hear his prayers, but when they lowered their weapons and helped her up, he vowed to become a religious man if they survived the war. Of course, they cuffed her in chains before escorting her anywhere, and as quickly as the exchange had occurred, they were gone.

Mercedes let out a sigh as she dropped the charm, and Claude instantly stepped forward as if he was about to follow where they had gone.

“Claude, come back here at once. Lady Cornelia should be in the center of the city, not that way,” Lorenz called out for him, and a spark of rage entered his veins at the order.

“I love your dedication, my friend, but I’m not just going to let one of our own suffer for my sake. I can’t ask you to all follow me, but I’ll make sure to get our delicate flower back on board, and we’ll meet up with you!” Claude forced a smile, but he was worried that they would change their mind at any second. If he could get there before they did...

“I hate to say it, but your friend is right. Following after her will just get us all killed, and the plan will be ruined. I hate your plan, but it’s all we have,” Felix scoffed at the irrational behavior and unsheathed his sword. “You either come back here willingly, or I force you to. No matter what, we’re heading towards the square even if I means I have to get the boar to carry you like a child.”

“You almost made me laugh. You cant expect me to just ignore what just happened. I should have shot at th—“

“And then you would have broken Mercedes’ illusion charm which not only would have injured her, but you would have put the rest of us at risk for a shot you may not even have made! Gosh, does everyone casually adhere to your rambling? Just listening to you is making me angry,” Felix rolled his eyes at Claude, and the tactician finally came to the understanding on why the man had never been around people during their Academy phase. By the looks of it, he was practically impossible to be around—let alone have a conversation with.

Claude knew he was right though, but he still couldn’t shake the worry in his gut. She’d almost been killed right in front of him because of the soldiers, and it would only take a few unguarded mistakes or a slip of the tongue for the same situation to occur.

“Hilda is a perfectly capable soldier, Claude. She’ll be in better hands if we finish the mission and rescue her afterwards. Now, come with us,” Lorenz eased his haughty tone down to a softer rendition of it, and he held his hand out weakly as if he didn’t have the intention of actually making contact.

Claude let out a sigh at the terms of playing along. They were right, but he desperately wished that they weren’t. She really didn’t need his supervision as much he was stressing over it, and if things truly got bad, it wouldn’t be impossible for her to take on both guards on her own. Still, he couldn’t deal with another Judith. He couldn’t bare that guilt a second time when he was still recovering from the current fear resting on his shoulders.

Despite his stressing concerns, the time for worry slowly became a passing memory as the creaking noise from earlier returned louder than it has before. They had been sure that the disturbance had been from the guards, but the loud bristling against bricks and what sounded like footsteps told them otherwise.

Claude stared at his group who seemed oddly focused on something behind his head, and he feared what would happen if he also checked his surroundings. The creaking noise had come to a halt behind him, but the expression on Lorenz’s face only sparked terror in the tactician as they stood—waiting for the unknown to occur.

“Move aside, you half wit!” Felix shouted with a burst of energy as he practically flew past Claude, sword in hand and a battle cry emerging from the corners of his throat. Claude used the opportunity to roll away from the direction the swordsman had fled, and in his movement, a large contraption crushed the ground he’d previously been occupying. At the sight, a shiver ran up his spine at how close he’d almost come to death, and he steadied himself to get a better look at what was attacking them.

It was unlike anything he’d seen before. Appearing as a demonic beast, the creature stood what felt like multiple buildings high in the sky, and it looked to be made of old bricks and decaying stone. It stood on two legs unlike a creature they would normally battle, and it appeared to be lacking in a mind of its own with the idle way it presented itself before their clustered bodies.

There wasn’t time to gawk at how something like it could even exist, and Claude whipped his bow out immediately to ready the first shot. Felix, who made it obvious where he was planning to strike first, dug his sword into the creature only to be kicked off in a single sweep. His sword went flying to the side right beside Dimitri who picked it up and began taking his own approach to trying to at least make a dent in the monstrosity. These things didn’t feel pain it appeared.

That didn’t stop Claude from firing out arrows as fast as he could manage. Whenever an arm seemed to be nearing too close to the prince’s head, an arrow always met with the hunk of stone before any real damage could be done, and that would delay the punch long enough for him to dodge. 

Mercedes stepped forward although her expertise was more geared towards supportive magic, and she shot a projectile forward. It was weaker than something that someone like Lysithea would have shot, but it did the work it needed to, and the creature was thrown backwards on its side.

Felix suddenly rammed into Dimitri with all of his might—causing a stumble of limbs. In the ruckus, the swordsman snatched his sword back from the prince and rushed forward now that the enemy was down. With a final leap into the air, he brought the weapon down into what appeared to be the head, and a loud crack emerged from the stone as it shattered onto the pavement. All movement from the beast came to a halt, and for the time being, it appeared to be stationary with the pieces of what used to be its head crushed into rock.

After a few minutes of shared glances and wary sighs, Felix threw his sword to the ground and whipped his head around to face Claude.

“Do you have any idea what that was?”

“Can’t say I do. Edelgard must have more tricks up her sleeve than I originally thought,” Linhardt had never mentioned something like that during their interrogation, but Claude had suspected that the mage wouldn’t just willingly trade his secrets so willingly. But this? This was something else entirely than he’d ever seen before. “We’re late. We need to start moving towards the objective. If those things are active, I’m sure that our siege has already begun.”

“After we talk about what just happened! I can’t be the only person here who isn’t just over what happened. What was that?” Felix flared his nose to show his anger, and Claude gave a sigh into his gloves. The chill from before had dissipated with the increased action, and he was now becoming warm with the upcoming danger ahead. “It didn’t look hurt by anything we did. It didn’t even bleed when I struck it.”

“Perhaps it was just a puppet?” Dimitri stood from the floor where he had been pushed, and he rubbed his hand against his neck to try and stretch his limbs out. He’d taken a few punches, but his armor had done a fairly good job at deflecting the hits to the best of its ability. “I don’t like this. We were unprepared for something like that.”

“I wonder who can be blamed for that mistake,” Felix didn’t directly look at Claude, but the tactician knew it was yet another jab at his pride. Still, coming from the warrior, Claude couldn’t feel hurt by such a statement and instead he simply chuckled at the taunt and wiped some dirt from his cheek.

“Now, Felix. I don’t think it’s fair to blame this on Claude. He’s just as clueless as we are, isn’t that right?” Mercedes’ voice was soft amongst the open wind, and it brought a refreshing aura to the group. She had a motherly effect on their minds.

“I wouldn’t say I’m clueless, but yes. I would have told you all if I knew of something like that,” Claude hesitated slightly at his denial because she hadn’t been wrong. He really was clueless in this situation. There was no telling how many of those monsters were gathered to protect Cornelia.

“For once I have to agree with you, Claude. Staying here will do nothing for us except allow another attack such as that one. Let us end this quickly,” Lorenz spoke up, and a snide Felix mumbled something about his cowardice during the battle to which the noble tinted pink at the accusation.

There was silence and an uneasiness on their next course of action, but Dimitri finally took it upon himself to begin walking in the direction where Cornelia was expected to be, and no one stopped him.

“Where are you going?” Felix scoffed at the arrogant behavior, and Dimitri simply kept walking as if he hadn’t even heard.

“I trust Claude’s decisions, and if he wants us to move towards that vile woman, I am in no position to reject him,” The relief in Claude’s chest bloomed at the statement after spending the entire trip with Felix’s snarky comments, and a smile spread across his face as he began walking to catch up. He gave one last look towards his backup team with a wink.

“You heard your king, didn’t you? You may not want to listen to me, but are you really going to refuse an order from him?” That got Mercedes walking after the both of them, and Lorenz was quick to follow behind her. The only one who hadn’t made a step yet was Felix, and the man seemed to be fuming at the mouth with swears that were too unkind for anyone else to dare repeat.

After one last look towards the discarded beast, Felix finally made his way towards the group with his head high as if he hadn’t been in a rage a few seconds before.

Their next few paces were of the same tone with sly comments exchanged back and forth and the tense atmosphere of hearing footsteps that didn’t match their own. They ventured from corner to corner with watchful eyes and hurried steps with the occasional dive behind a nearby building if a group of soldiers happened to rush past them.

As they continued walking, the familiar sounds of battle began to fill the air, and righteous cries surrounded their ears. Next came the blood, and the smell filtered through their noses and replaced anything else they’d been inhaling beforehand. It was sickening. It was everything Claude had been attempting to avoid in his time of solitude, and here he was yet again crouching behind the battlefield away from immediate danger. He’d been thinking skillfully, but would others consider him a mere coward if they looked at him from here?

And on top of that, Claude couldn’t stop worrying over Hilda who’d come seconds from a hole in her heart right before his very eyes. Lorenz had assured him that she was capable of handling herself, but he couldn’t remove the fear from his mind with just a simple reminder. Judith had been a capable soldier on her own, and she’d still gotten herself killed for his sak—

He stopped himself from thinking any further. He couldn’t start grieving in the middle of a battle. That was unlike him. 

Instead of before, Felix now led their group as he was the quickest of them all and could react the best when he heard something out of place. However, with the increased battle ahead, it slowly became harder and harder to pinpoint where the noises were coming from.

It was only a matter of time before an arrow went flying past their heads, and when it did, Mercedes was the first to react. She removed a small bow from behind her back and shot three arrows from the direction the attack came from. Despite her accuracy, the soldiers that had taken their chances with the group dodged easily and began a sprint in their direction with the full intent to kill.

But these people seemed off. They felt odd as they approached; their presence brought an icy chill.

Claude grabbed Mercedes right as one of them jumped forward to smash her head in, and the both of them went rolling to the side of the road. Before they could regain their composure, another soldier with the same atmosphere had already begun to ascend on their bodies with a sword in both hands.

“Lorenz!”

A loud clatter sounded from atop of their heads, and it was the perfect amount of time for Claude to roll once more from under the shield with Mercedes beneath him. Once they were in safety, Claude removed himself from her body and pulled Failnaught from his holster to prepare to engage in the battle as well.

Lorenz stood where they had previously been hunched over with his shield in hand and lance in another. The attack had been mostly blocked by his barrier, but the tip of the weapon had grazed his cheek, and the wound now leaked with fresh blood. He grunted under the pressure of his enemy, and Claude aimed to try and search for an opening of some sorts.

There wasn’t time for him to think for much longer though as Dimitri rushed in front of him and slammed into an upcoming brawler he hadn’t even seen. The both of them went falling to the ground, and Claude instantly let go of the string; the arrow went flying through the air and straight into the helmet of one of the men.

From the ground, Dimitri wrestled with the attacker to the best of his ability, and once he got a good grasp of him, Felix arrived from his rear and pierced the man’s chest with his blade as if it was nothing. It was a quick kill, but the euphoria didn’t last for much longer as another projectile scratched the surface of Felix’s coat. It tore a hole through the back, and he whipped his head up to try and find the culprit.

“Intruders in the back!” It was a faraway voice, but it seemed to echo against the walls, and the horror in Claude’s chest began to blossom at the realization that they’d officially been uncovered. “It’s the prince! He’s in the ba—“

Dimitri rushed forward, and with his bare hands, he quickly ended the job before their very eyes. Claude didn’t even have a chance to blink before the body of the soldier crumpled to the ground, and his bow trickled to the side as if it hadn’t been in use seconds prior. The life in his eyes was gone just like that. Dimitri didn’t even flinch as he kicked the body from his feet and rushed back to the group—the worry in his movements was obvious with the way he glanced over them.

“We need to move out. There’s no telling how many will be on our backs in the next few minutes. They know we’re here now, and now that they know you’re here too...” The words in Claude’s throat caught at the idea of what exactly they would do for Dimitri’s bounty. He was a “dead man” after all. There’s no telling what they would do to him if they happened to get their hands on him.

“I agree. We shouldn’t be too far from that woman. Only a few more blocks—I would hope,” Dimitri finished the statement when he noticed the way Claude sized him up, and he lightly placed his hand on the tactician’s shoulder as a form of comfort. Claude shivered slightly at the contact, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was from the Faerghus cold or something else, but he wasn’t in the mood to think about it further. The touch didn’t last long though; Dimitri removed the hand as quickly as he had placed it, and he walked over to Mercedes to help the woman back to her feet after the ruthless exchange.

She said nothing as he lifted her up, but the fear etched in her expression was something that had appeared to be a common emotion around the prince, and he didn’t express disheartenment if he noticed. Instead, she focused on something behind Claude, and after a few seconds of wandering eyes, she let out a gasp.

“Felix? Are you okay?”

When Claude turned around, he noticed that Felix had yet to get up from when he’d been shot, and he came closer to inspect what had happened in further detail. Lorenz also accompanied him, and both of them aided the swordsman into rolling over on his back instead of the kneeling position he’d been in prior. They searched his body for anything that might have restricted his movement, and Claude groaned when he noticed a small purple mark ingrained into his backside where he’d first believed the arrow to have missed.

Mercedes rushed over to them to join their search, and she left out a small sigh when she noticed the mark as well. It leaked some sort of liquid that Claude could only assume was blood, but it was a shade of purple instead of the normal red.

“You’ve been poisoned,” she spoke softly to Felix as if he was a small boy, and he simply scoffed at her demeanor before trying to rise. His body wanted the opposite, and he tumbled back into her arms. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before... I couldn’t imagine what those men were using.”

“They don’t look much like men. Their skin is as cold as ice,” Dimitri muttered behind them, and Claude resisted the urge to turn around to see what he was doing. He kept his attention on Felix who looked miserable that he was in the mercy of so many people at once, but he at least had enough consciousness to keep up his tough attitude.

“Perhaps that is because you slaughtered them? Ive never met a man who’s warm after death,” Lorenz allowed Mercedes to fully hold Felix in her arms, and he stood to pick up his shield from before. Dimitri shook his head at the noble’s comment.

“No, they were cold even when we clashed swords. It was as if they weren’t even alive in the first place, or maybe they were... I’m not sure, but it was like fighting a ghost.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” By the expression on his face, Lorenz looked more done with Dimitri than Felix usually was, and he appeared more confused than anything.

“He’s right. They carried a presence when they passed by me. I can’t place my finger on it, but something about them was different,” Claude realized that this was yet another thing he hadn’t been prepared for, and he quietly bashed himself for being so careless. Linhardt wasn’t the best resource obviously. He’d been relying on the wrong person for this job, and now he was paying for it. “Will you be able to heal him?”

“No. I’m afraid I can’t—not out here. I’m sure I’ll be able to do something for him back at Derdriu, but we have to hurry. I’m not sure how long it’ll take until it reaches his brain,” she positioned him up into a sitting position, and his head rested against her chest like a young boy clinging to his mother, and although he appeared to be incredibly uncomfortable in the situation, his strength must have been too weak for him to even attempt to push her away. “I can try to stop the bleeding and clean it, but we should be careful not to strain him.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch,” but all of them knew he was just spitting lies, and he knew it too. “You can’t honestly expect me to put my life in your hands.”

“You don’t have much of a choice, my friend,” Claude came to his side and hoisted his arm over his shoulder. Lorenz took the other side, and the both of them heaved Felix to a standing position. The general scoffed at the exchange, but he couldn’t do anything else besides lean into their grasp with a few humble whines that died before they made it out of his throat. “Dimitri? You lead the way. I trust that you know your way around?”

It was a joke, and Dimitri’s mouth upturned slightly if only a little to show that he’d gotten it. He’d grown up in Fhirdiad, after all. It was only fitting that walking these streets was as easy as counting the fingers on his hands. Their exchange was cut short with the incoming sound of voices, however, and both Claude and Lorenz began working their muscles into overdrive to lift Felix along the pathway.

He was a heavy load to carry despite his smaller frame, and Claude could only wonder how they’d make it the entire way at this rate. Mercedes couldn’t do much despite wanting to, and she simply walked beside Dimitri who was keeping an even pace in front of the trio to avoid being separated. Beside the tactician, Lorenz let out an occasional grunt—showcasing that the noble was better trained for debates in a council room rather than weightlifting, and under any other circumstance, Claude would have teased him for his lack of strength.

The screams of the battle grew closer the more they stumbled, and the anxieties within their chests grew each step taken. That wasn’t the only thing that became more apparent though; the scattered bodies of soldiers from both sides began to appear discarded on the sides of the road. Carcasses of people that had recently been struck down filled the alleyways and passages, and it took everything in Claude to not make a note that most of them were Kingdom soldiers. 

Soldiers he was supposed to protect with his schemes. By the looks of it, their armors had been crushed under the weight of something impossible, and the familiar cracks in the stone only reminded the group of what they had faced before.

There must have been more of those monsters. Too many to count if they had taken out so many men at once, and by the looks of it, the attack had been recent. These deaths had been an occurrence that had just happened, and they’d just narrowly been late to the party.

Dimitri took another turn when he heard the shackles of chains in the distance, and Claude and Lorenz had a field day with throwing Felix to the ground in an attempt to hide. Mercedes quickly rushed to the side at the quick motion, and with the injured man now free of his grasp, Claude could easily remove a knife from its pocket and prepare to jump out if needed. The bow was too big. He couldn’t hold it in the small proximity.

They waited there in silence besides the few occasional grunts from Felix, and that only made the tactician worry that they were running out of time. The sound of chains around the corner seemed to only belong to one person, and they could probably easily take the soldier if they timed their jump correctly. Dimitri seemed to have the same idea with the way he positioned his body closest to the noise as if ready to lunge out at any second.

When the time finally came, he leaped towards the incoming soldier, and Claude rushed forward with him—knife in hand—ready to pierce the heart of whoever Dimitri had caught.

But when they realized who’d they captured, a small sigh of relief came from the tactician, and he put his weapon back where it belonged.

“If you wanted to get on top of me your highness, I’m sure I could have had it arranged with a pretty girl instead. I didn’t realize tha—“

“Sylvain,” Dimitri groaned through his teeth, and he removed himself from the general who looked too at ease during such an impactful battle. “What in the Goddess’s name are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, your majesty. I see Claude is here. Does that mean the others are still with you?” Sylvain steadied himself once Dimitri was gone, and he tried to peek around his shoulder to see if he could scout out the others.

Mercedes poked her head around, and at her presence, Sylvain shot her a smile and began to come forward to embrace her in a hug. When she arrived, she easily fell into the contact, but it was quick and didn’t last too long. When they parted, she only offered him a quick smile in return before stumbling backwards.

“Felix? I know you’re in there. Come give your best friend a hug!”

“Stay back, you halfwit! A hug from you is like asking for a hug from a child,” Felix shouted back from the covering, and Sylvain chuckled and began walking forward to see the soldier for himself. However, when he realized the reason his friend hadn’t come out for other reasons besides simply not wanting to be in his affection, the grin on his face vanished.

“Does someone want to explain to me what happened? Also, where’s Hilda?” Sylvain crouched down to examine Felix, and the swordsman scoffed at the contact when the knight turned him over to reveal the wound.

“Since it seems that you missed my presence, I suppose I’ll have to make do with announcing it myself. Hello Sylvain,” Lorenz interrupted any possible explanation with his snooty tone, and Sylvain simply glared at his outstretched hand. His own grip was instead focused on holding his best friend upright.

“I didn’t miss anything, but hello Lorenz. How’s the missus?” Sylvain only reached forward for a second, but his hands appeared to be covered in blood; the liquid smeared against the noble’s hand seemingly on purpose, and after a few seconds, he removed his hand in an outburst. “Oh wait! You don’t have one! My bad.”

“Sylvain, why are you separated from your battalion?” Dimitri asked again this time with more order in his voice rather than shaken relief, and the knight sighed into his armor at the question he’d ignored the first time around.

“They’re all around us, your highness.”

“What?” Claude quickly whipped his head around searching for any sign of life nearby, but it only took him a few seconds to connect the dots on what he actually meant.

The dead corpses they had crossed paths on the way here still littered the ground and colored the pavement with their blood. The faces they parted with still had emotions of terror carved into their expressions, and the smell coming from their carcasses had already begun to emit a rancid taste in the group’s mouths.

“I know it might be hard to believe, but something came from behind us and slaughtered all of them. I might be the only surviving soldier unless others were able to get away,” Sylvain continued with his story, and now any joy in his features had completely dissipated. “It was a massacre, honestly. We didn’t expect anything like it, and it didn’t... it didn’t feel pain when we struck it?”

Claude recognized that, and now hearing the destruction those beasts could truly cause if given the right opportunity struck an emotion in his heart that he begged to go away. All it took was a sneak attack and an unprepared ally for it to be over. In fact, his life could have been over at the very start of their walk.

“Trust me, we know all about those monsters,” Felix spoke up, but the effort seemed to be too strenuous, and he coughed into his lap. Blood spewed from his throat, and Sylvain tensed up at his forgotten friend. “We faced one on our way in.”

“And you lived? I gotta say, your highness. I knew you were strong, but...”

Dimitri was too focused on the situation to truly be bothered by the comment, but Claude noticed that his demeanor seemed to soften at the words. Still, Sylvain had begun to remove the pullover from around his waist despite his statement, and he slid it over Felix’s body to provide him an extra comfort. It definitely felt like it was getting colder, and Claude could feel his bones ready to crack at the slightest of touches.

“Is that what happened to you then, Felix? Did those things inject you with some kind of poison?” Felix tried to push the cloth from his body, but it didn’t take much force for Sylvain to press his hand down to keep it in place until the assassin stopped struggling. “I can carry him out of here. Annette is probably waiting for my group tor return by the entrance,” he didn’t mention the fact that she too could possibly be dead, but none of them tried to think too hardly about the idea.

“All on your own? Are you sure?” Claude stepped forward to try and help him, but Sylvain had already hoisted Felix on his back despite his injuries. It was a funny sight to witness with Felix’s head dropped over his shoulder like a sack of dead weight, and it honestly would have made him laugh had the man been simply tired instead of on the brink of death.

“No offense to you, Claude, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. You can repay me by introducing me to one of those cute girls you’re always with. I think that’s fair?” Sylvain gave him a wink, and Claude simply offered him an uneasy grin. “Lady Cornelia is just around the corner, though. That’s why I still stuck around here. I was planning to try and jump her from the behind.”

“On your own? You’re impossible,” Lorenz scoffed at the idea, and Sylvain rolled his eyes at the man. Felix appeared to be slipping, and instead of indulging with the man any longer, the knight took time to make him more comfortable for the walk back.

“Be careful, Sylvain,” Mercedes waved him along, and he removed his hand from Felix’s backside for long enough to shoot her a small wave before beginning his return back to safety.

They watched him go until he turned around the opposite corner they were planning to take, and a collective sigh emerged from their lips. It had been a lucky chance that they’d received that information instead of just walking in blindly, and Dimitri stared aimlessly into the distance. Claude noticed his absence, and he reached forward to shake him back to the present to which the prince seemed glad to indulge in despite his aloft behavior. The tactician could only imagine what he’d been thinking about.

The spot where Felix had been seemed empty now, but Lorenz looked relieved that he could now focus on other matters rather than carrying a half-deceased man around. Claude couldn’t hide his contentment either, and he had to admit that without the distraction he could support the prince as back-up better. With his quick aim and Dimitri’s brute strength combined with Lorenz and Mercedes, they would be nearly impossible. At least, that’s how he saw it.

“This is our final push, everyone. We rush in behind Cornelia and end it here and now,” Claude spoke up, and his group—now reduced to four rather than six—all came to the agreement.

“I want to kill that woman myself,” Dimitri spoke up, and the familiar darkness hidden within his voice seemed to emerge with his tone. Despite the sudden switch, Claude nodded to comply with his request, but he made a mental note that if it got out of hand then he would have no trouble doing the job himself. Killing people he cared for was different, but killing a wicked woman such as herself was nothing he couldn’t handle on his own if it came down to it.

After some more pep talk to calm their nerves after the chance encounter, Dimitri once again took the front of the group while Claude kept his space in the far back in case a straggler decided to make their move on them. Mercedes was a distance from him, but she appeared to be slowing down in front of his path as if she was preparing to whisper something to him, so he also slowed his pace in waiting.

It was eerie walking alongside the once filled buildings that had housed civilians, and he could only wonder if their bodies were somewhere else among the rubble—caught between the fighting like a flurry of rats. He didn’t like the idea of civilians paying the price for foolish leadership, but something like this seemed inevitable in the capital.

“Claude,” Mercedes finally spoke beside him, and Claude raised his eyebrow to show that he was listening to whatever she had to say. Obviously whatever she wanted to speak to him about had been something she hadn’t wanted anyone else to also overhear, so he did his best to keep quiet that she was doing anything suspicious. “I know you said that Dimitri can have that woman’s blood, but...”

“What’s wrong?”

“... I don’t know. I just don’t know if that’s the best idea. Back when we found him, he was very sadistic, you have to understand. He would play with victims before he killed them—it was horrible,” Mercedes clutched the cloth covering her chest tightly the more she spoke, and Claude could only wonder what she was imagining. He focused on the prince ahead of them, and he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see. It wasn’t as if he’d never suspected that Dimitri might have done some questionable things before, so the information wasn’t overly surprising. “I just hope he doesn’t decide to toy with her and end up risking his life. Do you understand? I can see it in the way he kills and speaks. He may appear different, but it’s still there.”

“Such little faith, Mercedes,” Claude continued moving, but he recognized that they’d neared another corner, and the battle had become louder as if it was right there on the other side. “Trust me. I have this all under control, so have faith in your prince, alright?”

And with that Dimitri turned around to face the group—a finger rested on his lips to tell them to stop shuffling around. When they paused, he pulled his lance out and suggested for them to do the same. Mercedes simply sighed into the palms of her hands, and she appeared to be reciting a quick prayer. If Claude has the nerves to do the same, he would, but instead he gripped his bow in one hand and steadied his balance with the other; the anticipation of bloodshed bubbled in his stomach.

Dimitri stared at each of them as he slowly removed the finger from his mouth, and with a few seconds to spare, he gave them a small smile with the intention to motivate their spirits if it was even possible: a symbol of encouragement. 

And then they burst into the open.

There weren’t as many enemies as Claude had expected, but with the battle so far along, he could only imagine what had happened to them among the commotion. Instead of enemies though, two of those beats from before surrounded a slender woman further away, and about five soldiers had her backside covered. From their position, one of the machines turned to the side and ripped a chunk of the ground from its place and hurled it into the city. Wherever it had made impact at would have surely killed whoever was under its position, and Claude felt sick to his stomach witnessing it.

Their presence was quickly noticed though, and one of the men readied their bow to take a shot at Lorenz, but the tactician had him covered in an instant. He shot the hand the archer was taking aim with, and the arrow went flying to the side. There was no telling if the arrows contained the same poison that had damaged Felix, but one could only use their imagination in a time like this. They couldn’t risk another dead weight on their hands.

Mercedes shot a projectile towards one of the knights in heavy armor, and he was knocked back if only for a few moments for them to near closer. With the added battle, the woman turned around to stare at her new guests with an eyebrow raised, but when her attention focused on the supposedly dead prince, her smile grew wide and twisted. It was as if in an instant, the stone creatures beside her turned their bodies to the quartet, and their steps echoed against the surrounding buildings.

Dimitri lunged forward to the nearest soldier to prolong the machines for as long as possible, and Claude used his arrows to take out the knees of the next one that appeared to be raising his axe to strike him down. Lorenz used the open opportunity to throw his weapon at the soldier Claude had injured, and the man was down in an instant by the prince’s feet.

“I hope you find my Titanus enthralling. Are they to your liking? I’ve kept these few especially for your highness,” her words rang through the air like silk, and her smile only brought unease to their nerves as she snapped her fingers. The machines which she had called Titanus creaked forward to smash their hands into the ground beside Dimitri, and the prince struggled with the sheer force emitted from the impact. It was enough to knock him from his feet had he allowed it, but instead he kept his grip to the pavement.

Claude stood back from the commotion with his bow in hand, and he examined the situation to the best of his ability. Although Dimitri looked like he could perfectly handle himself, taking on two at the same time seemed like an impossible task even for him, and Lorenz couldn’t get close enough to intervene. He was busy with the men that were still upright and fighting, and he seemed to have taken the job of trying to keep them away from the prince until he was done. Mercedes joined him in his personal mission, and her projectiles flew past his face and heated up the paths they took.

Cornelia had her attention almost entirely focused on Dimitri, and it didn’t take long for Claude to connect the missing pieces when he realized the flick of her head every few seconds and the shivers of her arms whenever one of the Titanus took a hit.

“She’s controlling them! If we take her down, she’ll have no choice but to stop everything! Focus on Cornelia,” Claude shouted across the area, and in the moment’s notice, the woman whipped her head to face the tactician with a groan. Suddenly, Dimitri was no longer the center of attention, and a hand came down on the leader faster than he could call for help. He rolled underneath it before it made impact, but the energy that bounced off of a single hit knocked him back down to the ground.

“It’s a shame to have to kill the Alliance leader here. I was hoping we could make a deal in the future. You seemed smarter than the rest of them, after all, but you’re getting in the way,” shadows stretched under Claude, and he could sense that another attack was about to strike him down.

Until a small hand clutched on to his torso and pulled him through. Mercedes, who had generously saved him, was quickly back on her feet without even giving time for Claude to generously thank her. She shot four projectiles—each aimed at Cornelia’s head. Only one truly hit her though, and the woman was knocked to the side.

A war cry sounded from Claude’s ear, and he turned to prepare to face whoever was coming to attack him, but to his luck, Lorenz chose that exact second to ram into the heavyweight heading his way and continue their brawl.

He may be difficult to get along with, but seeing such loyalty made Claude grateful.

He raised his bow once more from the distance despite now that the Titanus were focused on him, and Mercedes fired another shot to deflect a kick heading his way. He aimed the arrow attached towards the woman who seemed to be struggled to stand, and the machines she was controlling seemed to falter at her expense just as Claude had predicted. If he could just...

He fired—knowing it would be faulty—and the arrow simply landed beside her. By now, she’d already stood back up, and the machines were back in full throttle. They threw his body to the side with a single swipe, and the weapon in his hands finally went flying from his grasp. A wicked laughter came from her direction, and he struggled to keep his eyes open with the sheer force he’d been thrown into the nearby wall. He could see why these things had completely demolished Sylvain’s battalion. With just one definite hit, he felt as if his ribs had been crushed.

“I wish we could have spoken more, but it seems you’re having a bit of a problem there. Allow me to fix it for you,” Cornelia’s voice was far off, and he could hear Mercedes let out a cry for him to move, but Claude simply sat there—a smirk on his face as the Titanus geared up to attack him. “Why are you smiling from over there? Surely you didn’t w—“

“Dimitri! Now!”

The woman didn’t even have time to turn her head as a lance plunged through her stomach from afar, and she crumpled to the ground in a coughing mess. Her blood leaked into the cracks of the ground, and behind her stood Dimitri; his expression was dark and threatening. From above Claude, the multiple Titanus came to a halting stop, and in the time he had, he used his remaining strength to roll from underneath them and into a safer spot.

She was still alive, surprisingly, and Mercedes’ warning popped into the tactician’s mind once more. He shook the thought away as best as he could. He trusted Dimitri to do the right thing.

The prince crouched down besides the tyrant leader as she laid on the floor struggling for air, and she tilted her head to get a better look at her attacker. He stared back with his one eye, and at the sight of the eyepatch, she chuckled despite her dangerous position. He determined her life after all.

“How’s the eye, boy? You surely look more like your father now, don’t you?” Her tone was taunting—almost as if she wanted him to kill her right there. At the mention of the former king, Dimitri removed the lance from her stomach, and she let out a shriek. “Are you going to kill me now?”

He didn’t speak. He simply raised his weapon above her head to end the job, and Cornelia let out another wicked laugh into the air. Her demeanor was weakening by the second now that the object had been removed, and her blood stained the rocks below at an alarming rate. Claude could only watch from where he stood, and the bow he’d been carrying the entire mission was too far to grasp in his state; however, something uneasy came over him with how much confidence she was exerting despite her death only seconds away.

“Do not speak of my father as if you knew him. If you have any last words, now is the time,” Mercedes widened her eyes that he was even giving her the chance, and Claude groaned in his hands. This woman was conniving. She was something of a different nature, and manipulative was a word on the tip of his tongue.

“I suppose I do. Listen here, prince. I have a tale about something that happened long ago that you’ll surely want to hear,” Cornelia threw her head back to rest it better on the brick, and Mercedes took the opportunity to rush over to Claude. She placed her hand over his torso where he seemed to be putting the least amount of strain over, and a cool feeling washed through his skin as if something was sliding over it. “Something Patricia said about how she wished to see her daughter again, no matter who she had to sacrifice to do so.”

Claude raised an eyebrow—his confusion rising over who the name she spoke of was, but by the way Dimitri’s face twisted in horror, he could only assume it was someone worthwhile.

“...and I made her wish come true, at the cost of the king’s head.”

“The king’s head? No... you couldn’t possibly—“ Dimitri fumbled over his words, and the lance he held in his arms shook with his hands that seemed to be unable to stay still the more they talked. “Are you trying to say that my father—no, everyone... was killed on the orders of my stepmother?” Claude connected the pieces now, and he eagerly wished he could reach his bow from where he sat and end the job before Cornelia filled his head with more lies. Lorenz was too much of a coward to try and interrupt, and Mercedes was busy tending to him despite the way her eyes widened at the revelation.

“That’s right. Wouldn’t you do the same to be with those you love?” She was faint in her words now, and Dimitri raised the lance above her head—a new kind of rage filled his gaze as the screams of battle surrounded him. “Oh the poor prince, Unloved even by the only mother he knew. What will you do now, Dimitri? Now that you know the t—“ but she didn’t have time to say anything else. He swung his weapon into her head, and she was interrupted in her last breath.

All at once, the sounds of fighting slowed around them, and the distant Titanus came to a halt. Soldiers under her rule paused as if they’d felt a horrible disturbance in the area, and like moths to a flame, they scurried away in a flash as if they were being called back to wherever they’d originally come from.

Dimitri stood above her body with a distant look in his eye, and it reminded Claude of their time in the tent so long ago. He looked pained by the experience, and despite her death, his hands appeared to be shaking faster and faster the longer he stared at her bloodied figure below him. Lorenz watched him carefully, but his attention was more geared with a smile towards the open air. They’d won, after all.

Then why didn’t this feel like a win?

“Dimitri!” Claude called out, and the chill of the Kingdom finally reached him now that his adrenaline was wearing off. He watched as Dimitri turned his head to find out who was calling his name. When he realized it had been the tactician shouting for him, he stumbled over to him faster than he should have when approaching someone injured, and Mercedes removed herself from his body to avoid impact when the prince collided with the leader. It was a hug that Claude hadn’t been expecting so soon, but when he felt something wet hit his shoulder, he realized that maybe it was better for Dimitri to hide his face in the midst of so much emotion.

They sat there on the floor for a few minutes, and Claude simply rested there with his arms wrapped around the discarded prince. Even from an outsider’s perspective, the tale had been hard for even him to hear of such betrayal, but the idea of Dimitri himself finding out something so gruesome was something else entirely.

“... Are you alright?” Dimitri removed his head from Claude’s shoulder, but he still had a hold on the tactician despite the audience surrounding him, and he couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed by the entire situation at hand. “We should get you to someone who can help you. Does anything hurt?”

“I’m fine, Dimitri,” Claude glanced over at Mercedes who seemed to be oddly focused on her handkerchief as if she was trying to not listen in to the best of her ability, and Lorenz was off to the side smiling to himself like a fool. If he happened to look over, he’d definitely laugh at the tactician in his predicament. “Are you hurt? I wouldn’t want Felix to be right and end up injuring the future king. Your friends will have my head.”

But Dimitri didn’t seem to hear Claude, and his only focus seemed to be on something beside him. He got that look in his eye once more, and the tactician could only watch as the grim expression appeared, and the hold over him began to vanish; the cold hair swarming the areas that were now open. He wasn’t sure what to do in the moment, and perhaps if given more time, he would have been able to talk it out with the prince rather than be so irrational, but Claude ignored his rationalities and placed a hand on Dimitri’s cheek to bring him back to the what was going on.

In hindsight, it was a silly play on his part. There had been times when if Claude had enacted any physical contact while Dimitri was in this state, he would be brushed off or simply pushed away. He wasn’t sure how the prince would react after such a harmful reveal; his physical state wasn’t prepared enough to take a shove from the brute.

But instead of doing any of those things, Dimitri’s eye found the leader once more, and without warning he settled his head further into the touch as if there weren’t people around them watching their every move. Claude couldn’t help but let out a small laugh in the moment, and his worries felt like they were melting away.

“We won, your highness,” The words correlated with the takeover of the capital, but when he stared at the pained prince before him, Claude couldn’t help but yearn for the words to mean something more; he wished for the statement to adhere towards the war instead. He wanted this senseless fighting to come to an end so that they could both share peaceful lives where they didn’t have to fret over huge battles and the death of their friends. Maybe then Claude could put his own feelings first for once in his life without the worry of his actions affecting someone else.

For now though, this battle was enough. For now, they could hold one another like this until the others arrived to congratulate them on the victory, and the joy that filled their veins was bittersweet.


End file.
